Chapter 3

Julian looked at my pale, sickly face. His eyes flickered with a brief flash of hesitation.

Just as his hand reached out toward my glass—

"Mr. Miller, I really can't drink another drop! I'm just the maid of honor, I could never match a man like you!"

"How about I let my sister drink it for me?"

A few feet away, Chloe's coy, high-pitched voice rang out.

She looked at Julian with wide, teary eyes, sending an unmistakable distress signal.

The tiny shred of hesitation on Julian's face vanished instantly. He yanked his arm from my desperate grip and shoved me straight toward the drunken Mr. Miller.

I instinctively waved my hands to refuse, but Chloe had already rushed over.

Repeating her trick, she clamped my jaw painfully tight and poured the scorching liquor straight down my throat.

My body rejected it.

The liquid splattered across my face, smearing my makeup and choking my lungs.

Tears and snot poured down as I violently coughed, gasping for air.

Every shred of my dignity as a bride was stripped away.

Watching my humiliation, Chloe doubled over with laughter.

She snatched another full glass from the server's tray, held it to my lips, and whispered viciously:

"Drink it, you bitch!"

"That's what you get for stealing Julian from me. I'm going to ruin you!"

My vision spun. Blindly, I reached out toward Julian.

Begging for a lifeline.

Yet through all of Chloe's blatant cruelty, Julian merely looked down at me and said coldly:

"Just drink it."

"Don't embarrass Chloe in front of everyone."

When that final glass was forced down, my legs gave out completely.

My heel caught on the hem of the dress, and I stumbled backward, crashing heavily onto the floor.

Pain surged through every bone, the entire ballroom spinning around me.

A wave of mocking laughter rippled through the onlookers.

Julian checked his watch. The timing was right.

He shot my parents a discreet signal.

My mother finally ambled over, hoisting me up by my arms, and urged:

"Alright, Avery is completely wasted."

"Let's just have the couple share their ceremonial toast so we don't hold up the wedding night!"

My father stepped forward carrying a silver tray, nodding subtly at Julian.

On it were two glasses of dark red wine.

To hide any discoloration, they had deliberately chosen a deep, opaque vintage.

It was the gentlest Julian had ever been with me.

He took me from my mother's arms, slid a glass into my trembling fingers, linked his arm through mine, and coaxed softly:

"Avery, drink the toast with me."

"Once you finish this glass, we'll be husband and wife for real."

My heart was an empty graveyard. I lifted the glass, preparing to swallow whatever fate had in store.

Just as the rim brushed my lips—

A hand shot out from the side and violently snatched the glass away.

Chloe shoved her way in, pretending to be wasted, screaming theatrically:

"I'll take it for my sister!"

"This toast belongs to me!"

She threw her head back and gulped down the spiked wine in one breath.

Then, clinging tightly to Julian's arm, she shot me a venomous, triumphant sneer:

"Julian, we are the ones who belong together!"