The Wedding That Wasn't

On my wedding day, an unwelcome voice invaded my thoughts.

When I looked up at the groom sliding the ring onto my finger, his lips curved in a gentle smile—but a wave of icy dread washed over me inside:

"Marcus sends this dumb sheep to me, thinking he can get the project. What a dreamer."

I jolted.

My fingers trembled uncontrollably, and the silver band slipped to the floor.

Sebastian looked at me with eyes full of tenderness and guilt, as if all fault lay with him.

But inside, he was saying: "Clumsy fool. Born to be slaughtered."

1

My marriage to Sebastian had been finalized three days earlier.

The wedding planner was my foster father, Marcus.

His company was in crisis, the capital chain broken, bankruptcy looming.

To save his business, Marcus scrambled everywhere, scheming to marry me off in exchange for funds.

He used my mother as leverage. Within half a month, he made me meet six men.

A fifty-year-old obese, greasy uncle. A dissolute, brutal rich brat. And a businessman with a wife at home and mistresses scattered across the north and south...

They were all willing to be with me, but none offered a high price.

Until Sebastian appeared.

He gave Marcus a price that made him ecstatic.

His condition: marry within three days.

Marcus agreed immediately, practically wanting to deliver me to Sebastian's bed that very night.

But Sebastian wasn't that eager. He went through all the pre-wedding procedures step by step.

He even got the marriage license before the wedding.

So before today, in my eyes, he was a gentle, polite, handsome, elegant man who respected me.

In my dreams, I believed in love at first sight.

Until I heard his true thoughts.

It turned out he married me just to set a trap for Marcus.

A clash of titans, and I was their pawn.

2

The wedding continued.

Joyful, romantic music filled the venue. Everyone looked happy.

Especially Sebastian.

He held my hand, bent slightly, and picked up the ring that had fallen by his feet.

When he looked up, his eyes were deep and passionate: "Sorry, my fault for not holding it well. I've wronged my lady."

Inside: This damn ceremony is annoyingly long.

I quickly straightened my fingers to let the ring slide on smoothly.

Even the music couldn't drown out the sound of me swallowing.

When I put the ring on him, I was even more cautious, almost fawning: "Mr. Sebastian, if you're busy, you can leave first. I can handle toasting the guests myself."

My sudden thoughtfulness seemed to startle Sebastian.

A flicker of confusion crossed his eyes as he looked at me.

But soon, a smile spread across his face, masking his true feelings: "What could be busier or more important than a wedding? Let's go."

He took my hand, turned to face the guests, and raised a champagne glass.

Inside: Playing tricks on me? I'll deal with you later.

My inner self: ...

3

My mistake was buttering him up the wrong way.

I didn't dare make a move after that until the wedding ended.

I was sent to the bridal chamber first.

It was decorated lavishly—everything you'd expect at a rich person's wedding was there.

Except people.

The five-story villa had no one inside.

As a pawn, there was no need for me to sit obediently waiting for the groom to return.

I found my suitcase in a second-floor bedroom, took out casual clothes, removed my makeup, and showered to freshen up.

Seeing it was getting late, I went to the kitchen.

Over the years, I'd followed my mother through three marriages, and the skill I'd improved most was cooking.

Because every time she married a man, she was too busy being romantic and enjoying life to cook.

So I, her daughter, became the free maid.

But some foster fathers weren't satisfied with me just being a maid. They'd make moves on me when my mother wasn't home.

Like Marcus.

So, after learning Sebastian's true motives, I was actually pleased.

Whether a man loves me or not doesn't matter. As long as he's useful.

4

The kitchen had nothing—not even drinkable water.

I went outside for a look and basically concluded Sebastian wouldn't be coming back tonight.

He wanted to starve me for a night.

I had some money on my phone and could order takeout.

But that would easily shatter the "fool" persona I'd built in his eyes.

Making a cunning, intelligent man suspicious of me wasn't wise.

I put away my phone and returned to the bridal chamber.

Traditionally, four plates of dried fruits were laid out.

I grabbed a handful and went downstairs to boil half a pot of water.

The living room was a sea of red, cold and desolate.

Figuring Sebastian wouldn't come back, I lounged on the leather sofa, one hand holding water, the other munching on red dates.

Just as I was enjoying myself, a voice suddenly popped into my head: That fool must be crying by now.

5

Suddenly, the water and dates in my hands didn't taste so good.

Before Sebastian could enter, I quickly stuffed everything into the drawer under the coffee table and smeared warm water on my face.

The door swung open.

I turned to Sebastian with a pitiful expression.

He let out a smug laugh inside.

But when he approached, he was gentle, bending slightly to smile at me.

Inside: As expected... when she can't hold out anymore, she'll call Marcus.

That was really putting me in a bind.

Marcus was just like him—a seemingly nice guy on the surface, but sinister and shameless underneath.

I couldn't make that call.

But I had to act until Sebastian was satisfied.

I pouted and tried to squeeze out tears.

Then I heard Sebastian's inner voice: What's that stuck on her teeth?

His eyes immediately went to the coffee table in front of me.

Water was seeping through the cracks in the wood.

Sebastian reached out.

Just as his hand touched the drawer, I shot up: "I want to go back to my mom."

Sebastian pulled his hand back, a confused look on his face.

Inside, he was gloating: Ha, scared senseless and talking nonsense?

I went along with his expectations: "There's no one here. I'm scared. I want to go home."

Sebastian: From now on, you won't leave this house.

Me: ... House arrest?

Outwardly, he took my hand and sat with me on the sofa: "Claire, we're newlyweds. We can't go back to your parents' home now. See, I'm back, aren't I?"

I tested the waters: "Are you... leaving again?"

"I'll stay with you," Sebastian said gently.

Inside: In a bit, you'll be crying and begging me to leave.

6

I immediately clutched my clothes.

What was this guy planning?

Sebastian blinked, and the fake tenderness in his eyes almost overflowed: "Cold?"

He even started to take off his jacket.

Inside: Ugly woman, you think I'd actually do anything with you? Ha, you dream as much as your father.

Thank you very much. I really don't want anything.

I let out a huge sigh of relief and grabbed his jacket: "Not cold. I'm just... a little hungry."

He was laughing maniacally inside.

But out loud, he said sympathetically: "Hungry? That's a bit tricky. This place is far from the city. No restaurants. The kitchen..."

"There's nothing in the kitchen either."

I finished his sentence.

Watching his smug, barely concealed expression, I felt like twisting his head off.

Sebastian "comforted" me and went upstairs to shower.

Before leaving, he said "affectionately": "Wait for me."

I smiled back.

And mentally retorted to his scheming: Bring it on. I'm not afraid.

7

As soon as Sebastian left, I quickly moved the dates and peanuts to a different spot in the drawer and tidied up the living room.

No sooner had I finished than the lights went out.

I was plunged into darkness like a blind person.

His voice came from upstairs: "Power outage! Claire, are you okay?"

I controlled my voice, making it tremble like a candle in the wind, adding a crying effect: "I'm so scared. Where are you?"

In the dim light, Sebastian stood at the top of the stairs, coldly watching me grope around the living room.

After bumping into the sofa, coffee table, and a corner cabinet, I started to wonder if this guy had a screw loose.

I said I was scared, not blind.

Even if it was dark inside, wasn't there light outside? Once my eyes adjusted, shouldn't I be able to see?

Stranger still, during this time, his mind was completely blank. I couldn't hear a single thought.

Was he planning to dump me down a drain on this dark, windy night?

My feet, which had been inching toward him, froze in place.

Out of the corner of my eye, I scanned the door, calculating whether I could make it out if Sebastian rushed down.

8

The moonlight filtered through the French windows, casting a dim, hazy glow across the room.

The figure on the stairs began to move.

His steps were light, descending one by one, as if afraid to startle me.

Me?

I didn't dare let my guard down. I crouched, bent my knees, mapped out an escape route, and got ready to sprint.

Sebastian's foot landed on the last step, and I had already turned to run, when a sudden image flashed into my mind.

The same dim house, two children huddled inside. A little girl whimpering softly, a little boy gently soothing her.

I couldn't see the girl's face, but it felt strangely familiar.

The image shifted uncontrollably, changing angles—sometimes looking out the window, sometimes toward the door.

Completely ignoring my desperate desire to see the girl's face.

I was so frustrated I almost cursed, when I heard a faint murmur in my head: "Rain, don't be afraid. Big brother is here."

Huh?

I looked at Sebastian, still standing on the stairs.

What was going on?

I knew he wanted to scare me, but I didn't expect him to be this convincing.

He was even doing some kind of silent telepathy.

The house must be haunted. Tomorrow, I'll...

"Rain!" Another soft call.

This time, I heard it clearly. It wasn't telepathy. It was Sebastian.

He walked toward me, his face dark, his eyes deep.

God, I definitely wanted to run. My legs were already mentally sprinting toward the door.

But in reality, I stood frozen, even vaguely hoping he'd come closer.

I was utterly baffled by my own behavior.

So when Sebastian reached out to pull me into his arms, I pushed hard against his chest.

Then, just as quickly, I let go.

Oh my god, his chest was burning hot and rock hard.

9

Panicking, I whipped out my phone, turned on the flashlight, and shone it directly in Sebastian's face.

"Are you... sick?"

He: You're the one who's sick, stupid woman.

After that inner jab, Sebastian pretended to hug me again: "Claire, are you okay? I was worried you were scared."

His voice was much clearer now.

Completely different from his sleepwalking state earlier.

I clutched my chest and stepped back discreetly: "I'm fine. What about you?"

He sneered inwardly: Of course I'm fine. If I hadn't mistaken you for Rain, I'd have scared you to death just now.

Ha, so many inner thoughts.

So the image that popped into my head earlier was his imagination.

Mind-reading with visuals now? That's illegal.

We exchanged a round of fake pleasantries.

He explained that the new villa had insufficient power, and he hadn't expected the outage.

I played along with his expectations, crying softly and acting helpless.

Finally, we fumbled our way upstairs in the dark toward the bedroom.

Honestly, under normal circumstances, if I had any sense, I'd be heading back to the city on foot by now.

But since I had mind-reading powers, I was dying to know what other tricks Sebastian had up his sleeve and what he'd done to Marcus today.

As we walked, all he could think about was how to undress me, where to kiss me first to make me scared, and other little scenarios.

...What a sneaky bastard!

10

If I let him have his way, would I still be Claire?

Just as Sebastian was guiding me to the bedroom door, I suddenly lurched sideways.

Both hands grabbed his arms.

He'd just showered and was wearing pajamas with the sleeves loosely rolled up, revealing his lean forearms.

I caught hold easily.

The moment I touched him, Sebastian's mind screamed: Damn, she's making the first move! This stupid woman, this ugly woman...

I: Gah gah gah.

I laughed like a goose.

While he was flustered, I slid my hand up his arm to his chest.

Case solved. Earlier downstairs, the reason my hand felt so hot was because I'd pressed directly against Sebastian's bare chest.

Skin to skin, no pajamas in between.

Back then, his mind was full of "Rain, Rain," so he didn't react much.

But now was different. Sensing my intent, he immediately stepped back and did the same thing I'd done—clutched his clothes.

I was laughing hysterically inside.

But out loud, I said pitifully: "Sebastian, it's so dark in there. I'm scared."

I held onto his clothes for dear life, no matter how hard he pulled.

Sebastian's mind: %¥*@&¥@&...

He really didn't want to consummate the marriage?!

I was overjoyed.

With this weakness, how could I not beat him?

It was dark anyway, so no one could see me blushing.

Taking advantage of his fear, I groped him all over.

I almost drove him crazy, but he still had to pretend to enjoy it: "Claire, let's go inside, inside..."

"Sure."

When he pushed me, I wrapped my arms around his waist.

His breathing grew rapid, his voice no longer as steady as before.

His mind was in chaos.

He frantically made excuses: "I'll go check if the breaker tripped... I don't know if the bed is made... Wait for me."

Inner thought 1: What did I just touch? Why was it so soft? She won't get the wrong idea and think I actually want to do something to her, will she?

Inner thought 2: Get out of here quick. Dangerous creature. Just as hard to deal with as Marcus.

11

At this rate, in another ten minutes, Sebastian might have a breakdown.

Poor thing.

I let go.

As he left, I called out pitifully: "Sebastian, come back soon."

I heard his inner voice: *Shudder.*

Sebastian was decent enough to turn the lights back on.

Then, claiming work, he fled the villa, his mind screaming: Don't look at her chest, don't look at her face, don't look at her...

The car roared to life.

He was gone.

Who would've thought that the famous business tycoon of South City was afraid of women?!

If it weren't for dealing with Marcus, would he have stayed a bachelor forever?

I sighed, climbed into the warm bed, and slept soundly.

The next day, before dawn, my stomach woke me up.

Dried fruits really weren't filling.

I washed up, changed clothes, and headed for the front door.

Just as Sebastian had arranged, the door had a keypad lock, and I didn't know the code.

I didn't call Sebastian.

I called Marcus directly.

He picked up after one ring, his voice urgent: "Claire, did you get him last night? The project he promised—why hasn't it started yet?"

I listened leisurely to his rambling.

He was desperate, I knew.

Before I married Sebastian, he was so desperate he'd have sold me for parts if he could.

Now that he'd finally found a lifeline, of course he wanted to save his company and pay off his debts.

I told him: "Sebastian said he's been busy lately..."

Marcus was losing his mind: "Busy my ass! You push him. We had a deal. Why is he reneging now that he's married you?"

"Oh, I'll remind him then."

"I want to meet him."

"Okay."

Why did I agree so quickly?

Because, of course, I wanted to get out too. I wanted to watch them fight.

12

There were cameras in the villa, so Sebastian knew I'd made the call.

So at noon that day, he did the decent thing and brought food.

But by then, I'd already finished all four plates of dried fruits. The coffee table was piled high with shells and pits.

Sebastian apologized with his mouth, saying he was sorry for starving me.

But inside, he was cursing: Stupid woman, you really can eat. If I hadn't come back, would you have started gnawing on the walls?

I was a bit embarrassed too. I looked at him with longing eyes.

For effect, after staring for half a minute, I puckered my lips, ready to wail.

Sebastian lunged over and pulled me into his arms: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's all my fault. Work has been so busy..."

Inside: My suit jacket, her snot bubbles. Oh God!

13

After a satisfying meal, I confessed to calling Marcus and told him that Marcus wanted Sebastian to release the project funds as soon as possible.

Sebastian pacified me with words, saying he really was busy these days.

Inside: If I don't squeeze the bile out of that old bastard, I won't have done right by Rain.

Alarm bells rang in my head. So his grudge against Marcus was also because of this Rain.

I was dying to know the gossip.

And I really wanted to help Sebastian move things along, to make the battle come faster and fiercer.

After all, this awkward living arrangement wasn't something either of us wanted to maintain.

Through a combination of mind-reading and gentle coaxing, I finally got Sebastian to agree to have lunch at Marcus's place the next morning.

I was so excited I couldn't sleep that night, just imagining the drama the next day.

But then my mind went blank, and Sebastian's voice suddenly popped up: "She's asleep, right?"

I looked toward the door.

After a day of experimentation, I'd figured out the rules of my mind-reading.

If Sebastian and I were more than two meters apart, I couldn't hear his thoughts.

Like the first night, when he was at the top of the stairs and I was in the living room—the distance was too far, so all I heard was static.

When he came down the stairs and got closer, I immediately heard "Rain."

I measured the distance between the bed and the door.

Oh, about two meters.

So, Mr. Sebastian was now pressed against the door, listening to me sleep?

I got out of bed and walked barefoot to the door.

The closer I got, the louder Sebastian's voice became: This woman trusts me. She tells me everything. Good. I can get more information about Marcus from her.

Me: What do you want to know? Tell me, tell me! I promise to spill everything.

Sebastian: But the rumors must be wrong. Her relationship with Marcus doesn't seem that good.

Me: Ha, who started that rumor? Sew their mouth shut. Useless.

Mr. Sebastian had a lot of inner thoughts. He muttered to himself as he moved away from the door.

How could that be? I hadn't heard enough yet.

Just as I heard the door next to mine click shut, I immediately pulled open my door...

Oh!

I crashed into Sebastian's arms.

He hadn't left after all.

And inside, he was thinking: What does this woman want? She's not trying to force herself on me, is she?

14

Sebastian held me by the shoulders and pushed me away.

This scheming bastard could still put on a loving face: "Claire? You're still awake?"

I complained sincerely: "Too noisy. Can't sleep."

He: She definitely has designs on me. Making up such a ridiculous excuse.

Me: ...

I pushed him away: "I'm thirsty."

Behind me, he thought: Thirsty? Is she hinting at something?

I really wanted to turn around and glare at him.

I quickened my pace downstairs and downed an entire bottle of purified water Sebastian had brought back. Only then did I calm down.

As for his growing narcissism and fear of me getting close, I summed it up in two words: psychotic.

So why bother reasoning with a psycho? Back to bed.

I didn't care where Sebastian slept. He certainly wouldn't share the bed with me.

And the next day, he'd find a reasonable excuse.

I was fine with that.

15

The next morning, when I woke up, Sebastian was already gone from the villa.

Surprisingly, he'd left me breakfast.

I had no idea where he got it, but it tasted good.

I killed time until ten, then he drove back to pick me up for the trip to Marcus's house.

My mother, Luna, and Marcus stood at the door to welcome us, their faces beaming like blooming flowers.

As soon as I walked in, my mother pulled me into a room: "So? How is it? Is he treating you well?"

"Pretty good."

I was eager to hear what the two men were saying, so I tried to brush her off.

But she wasn't satisfied. She held onto me: "I heard from Marcus that Sebastian is great in every way. Cherish him."

"Mainly because he's rich," I said with a fake smile.

My mother pinched me: "Don't be sarcastic with me. If he's really not good to you, you can always divorce."

"Mom, does Marcus know you said that?" I asked, looking at her.

She looked a bit embarrassed: "Well, I can't just watch you be unhappy!"

I couldn't be bothered to argue.

After all these years, she only ever paid lip service.

The only happiness she truly cared about was her own.

Marcus and Sebastian went to the study.

I couldn't hear their conversation through the door.

But within two meters, I could hear Sebastian's thoughts.

Right now, he was furiously cursing Marcus: "Money, money, money. You have a whole daughter in my hands, and you don't even ask about her. I'll make sure you choke on your greed. Not a cent."

Me: Well done.

But after a few minutes of satisfaction, Sebastian hit a snag.

Whatever Marcus said to him made him start pondering the old man's background and our real relationship.

He even started thinking about my mother.

16

Not being able to hear the full conversation was maddening.

So, while my mother was in the kitchen, I immediately knocked on the study door.

Sebastian's thought when he saw me: The Marcus family? She should know!

Me: Yes, I know. Come with me.

In front of Marcus, I couldn't be as coy as I was at Sebastian's place. I just grabbed his sleeve.

"Uncle Marcus, let me talk to him."

Marcus, fixated on his company, misinterpreted my move as me trying to persuade Sebastian to give him money quickly.

He nodded immediately: "Good, good. Talk."

I pulled Sebastian into the room I'd lived in before marriage.

He thought as he entered: So shabby. Definitely not a real daughter.

I nodded frantically in my head.

But out loud, I had to keep up the pretense of persuasion: "Uncle Marcus's business hasn't been good lately... Oh, have a seat anywhere."

Looking around, there was nowhere to sit except a bunk bed.

Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed, and I stood by the desk next to it.

I tested the waters: "Is Uncle Marcus asking for too much money?"

Sebastian: Not really. I just don't want to give it to him.

Out loud: "No, it's not that. But investments need results. I can't just give him money and projects. He'd just fail again."

I pretended to understand: "Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime."

Predictably, Sebastian sneered again: You two are so close. That old bastard doesn't give a damn about you.

I rolled my eyes toward the window.

Then I "accidentally" knocked over a diary I'd just placed on the desk.

The plot was a bit cliché, and the handwriting looked fresh.

But I didn't care. As long as it opened up the conversation.

A glaring piece of paper fell out of the diary, covered in writing: "I hate Marcus. I hate Marcus. I hate..."

I pretended to panic and tried to hide it, but "accidentally" let the paper fly onto Sebastian.

He looked up at me.

I looked back at him.

Bro, if you don't take the bait now, I'll never crack your fake exterior and get my point across.

17

Luckily, I heard Sebastian's excited inner voice: Marcus treated her badly? Opportunity!

My opportunity had come too.

Tears streamed down my face: "I'm sorry. Can you not tell anyone? I'm scared..."

Sebastian's eyes darkened, a deep tenderness in them.

If I hadn't heard his thoughts, I might have been moved.

He: If I don't tell, how can I destroy him?

He gently took my hand and pulled me to sit beside him on the bed: "Claire, are you still afraid now?"

Wow, so gentle.

I shook my head: "With you here, I'm not afraid."

He nodded solemnly: "You're my wife now. If anything upsets you, makes you unhappy, or if anyone bullies you, you can tell me."

Great, bro. That's exactly what I was waiting for.

No need to hold back.

But I had to make the act convincing. I couldn't cry that much, so I just rubbed my eyes hard.

By the time I finished telling him about Marcus, my eyes were red from rubbing.

Then I heard Sebastian's inner voice, a faint sigh: She's pitiful too. Lucky she married me. If she'd ended up with that beast, how would she have survived?

Me: ... Bro, wake up. This is the time for you to come up with a full plan to destroy Marcus, not sympathize with me.

But Sebastian couldn't hear my thoughts.

The way he looked at me had actually warmed up a bit.

Inside: She's nothing like Marcus. I shouldn't hurt her from now on.

I nodded repeatedly: You have a conscience.

I desperately wanted to hear Sebastian's battle plan.

But during the meal that followed, he didn't think about it at all.

He spent the whole time taking care of me, occasionally letting out a sigh: Truly pitiful. Just like Rain.

18

Thanks a lot, Rain.

I was disappointed.

Marcus was even more disappointed than me because, once again, he didn't get any money from Sebastian.

Of course, to keep up appearances, Sebastian did give him the project they'd discussed.

But pushing a project forward required more money.

Marcus didn't have it.

He wanted Sebastian to invest, saying the project belonged to the Sebastian family, so any profits would go to them.

Sebastian looked at him like he was an idiot: "Do you know how much this project will make? How many people in South City are fighting for it, Mr. Marcus? If you really don't have the funds, I'll have to give it to someone else."

Marcus was frantic: "We agreed you'd give me the money!"

Sebastian smiled, elegantly sarcastic: "Mr. Marcus, you've been in business for years. How can you say something like that? Whose money is just given away for free?"

"But I gave you Claire."

"Oh."

Sebastian let out a long "oh" and finally started to strike.

"Speaking of which, I should tell you, Mr. Marcus. I married Claire because she likes me. You didn't sell her."

He leaned in, staring into Marcus's eyes, and said slowly: "You don't have that right, and I wouldn't dare buy a living person."

With that, ignoring Marcus's wide-eyed stare, he took my hand and left.

Marcus stomped his foot in rage: "Claire, you watch yourself."

Sebastian turned back, his eyes shooting icy daggers: "Mr. Marcus, threatening my wife will come at a price."

Then he swept away.

19

Watching them clash, almost driving Marcus crazy, was satisfying.

But my mother was still in his hands.

The tricky part was that my mother always thought Marcus treated her well and didn't want to leave.

In reality, she was just his hostage to control me.

So, before we even got home, my mother called.

"Claire, your Uncle Marcus has been good to you all these years."

I didn't answer, but Sebastian's inner voice came first: Indeed, so good he wanted to drag your daughter into bed. A pair of fools, mother and daughter.

And: Poor Claire. Sold by someone and still counting the money. If she hadn't met me, she'd be dead.

I confess, I suspected Sebastian had a chatterbox living in his head—one with a comedic streak.

He had way too many inner thoughts.

And since we were sitting so close, I couldn't even talk to my mother properly. I hung up.

He perked up.

He asked me: "Did you marry me just for Marcus?"

"I was forced," I said.

He frowned.

Inside: That's it?

I rolled my eyes toward the car window and said provocatively: "What else? For love?"

Sebastian: Just as I thought.

I whipped my head around.

I actually saw Sebastian's ears turning red.

His inner thought: She decided to marry me after just one meeting. It must be love at first sight. She's just too shy to say it, so she's using Marcus as an excuse.

Me: Nani?

I wanted to get out of the car.

20

This wasn't going in the right direction.

I married him initially to temporarily stabilize Marcus, get out of his house, and later find a way to rescue my mother.

Second, Sebastian was good-looking. If it had been any of the previous six, I'd have found a way to mess things up.

Of course, after I could hear Sebastian's thoughts, I was dead set on destroying Marcus.

But this guy in front of me—his focus kept derailing at critical moments.

Every time he looked at me, his mind was full of how pitiful I was, how I'd been bullied for years without daring to fight back.

He'd make up all kinds of little scenes in his head, enough to make a small tragedy.

As for fighting Marcus, he hadn't thought about it once—at least not in front of me.

...

I did some deep reflection. Maybe I'd overdone it and given Sebastian psychological trauma.

I decided to show him my sunny, confident side.

So, before my wedding leave was over, I asked to go to work, eager to face the colorful world.

But in Sebastian's eyes: Clearly insecure. Married to someone like me, and she still wants to work? Doesn't she know how much money she has?

Right then and there, he pulled out a bank card and shoved it into my hand: "Take this. Buy whatever you want. Don't hold back."

The same day, he hired two maids.

One to clean the house, one to cook for me.

When he came back that night, he unloaded a pile of things from the car and put them all in front of me.

From clothes and shoes to jewelry, makeup, and luxury goods.

He: This should give her a sense of satisfaction, right?

Me: !!!

21

It was Marcus who finally broke the stalemate.

He couldn't wait any longer. The new project was in his hands but hadn't started, and Sebastian was pressuring him.

The loans and private debts he'd accumulated—people were threatening to sue him, and some had already started showing up at his door to block him.

He called me.

I answered. I agreed.

But I did nothing. I just said Sebastian was busy.

He started using my mother.

When Luna showed up at Sebastian's villa, I was sitting in a sunlit room, revising a comic.

She first marveled at how big Sebastian's house was and how good my life was.

Then she was surprised that, with such a good life, I was still working.

I stopped what I was doing and asked her: "Mom, how many years has it been since you worked?"

She frowned and pouted: "Your mother has never really worked. The world out there is too chaotic. I don't want to struggle."

I looked up at her: "What if Marcus pushed you out to struggle?"

She smiled gently: "He wouldn't. Your Uncle Marcus is the best to me. How could he bear to?"

"Then why are you here to see me?"

Luna paused for half a second, then quickly smiled again: "I'm here to ask my daughter and son-in-law for a little favor. That's not struggling."

"A little favor? Do you know how much money Marcus needs? How much he owes?"

My mother: ...

A blank look.

I told her: "The project he got from Sebastian needs two hundred million to start. And he alone owes six hundred million in bank loans, plus private debts. Probably around a billion total."

My mother was stunned.

Her mouth hung open, and she couldn't speak for a long time.

I thought I'd finally woken her up and was about to explain how to safely leave Marcus.

But she slapped me. "You girl, have you been watching too much TV? Do you know how much a billion is? If your Uncle Marcus owed that much, how could he still live like this?"

Now I was the one stunned.

The reason Marcus owed so much was precisely because he lived lavishly, poked holes everywhere, and gambled.

Seeing she couldn't get through to me, my mother prepared to leave: "I don't understand projects, but your Uncle Marcus has really been good to you all these years. He got you a job, prepared your dowry. How else could you have married a good man like Sebastian? So, help him out."

22

Sebastian had an open talk with me about my mother's visit.

His stance was clear: he would never let Marcus off the hook, for Rain's sake.

As for my mother, if she could wake up, great. If not, he couldn't afford to care.

This conversation was the first time since I'd known him that he spoke from the heart, saying exactly what he thought.

I understood his position, but I couldn't change the situation.

Given my mother's current attitude, even if I forcibly separated her from Marcus, she'd find a way to go back and blame me for being ungrateful.

A mother who wouldn't even believe that her husband had made advances on her own daughter—what could she believe?

23

Things deteriorated quickly.

Because Sebastian refused to invest, the project in Marcus's hands was worthless.

But Marcus couldn't bear to treat it as scrap.

Since he couldn't do it himself, he sold it to someone else.

Behind Sebastian's back, he quickly made the deal, even trying to profit from it.

But before the third party could officially start the project, Sebastian found out.

And he immediately sued.

Once Sebastian made his move, those who had been waiting on the sidelines saw the cracks.

So Marcus's rich son-in-law had turned against him.

What were they waiting for? Everyone joined in the lawsuit.

Marcus was soon served with court summons.

The people blocking his door became even bolder, slapping seals on his property and splashing paint.

By the time my mother realized something was wrong, it was too late.

24

I got her call even later.

Her voice was frantic: "Claire, I've been kidnapped. Come quick..."

Then the phone was passed to someone else.

"Claire, right? We have Luna. Marcus used her to pay off a debt of two hundred thousand. You figure it out."

"Impossible. You're lying. Marcus would never..."

I heard my mother scream through the phone, and I hung up immediately.

I saved the recording.

Two hundred thousand. Marcus had pawned off my mother. He really was desperate.

I had that much money, and I understood the principle of paying debts.

So I arranged to meet them, cash for person.

That evening, I changed into sportswear and running shoes, grabbed a bank card with two hundred thousand, and took a taxi to the meeting point.

Several luxury cars were already parked there.

I couldn't help but sigh: Debt collectors are rich. Look at these cars—each one worth several times the debt.

The next moment, I heard a voice that shouldn't have been there: This stupid woman. She actually came. How stupid.

I spun around in shock.

A car window rolled down, revealing Sebastian's face.

He was less than a step away.

"What are you doing here?" I swallowed.

He frowned: "Get in."

"I have things to do."

"To save Luna. I know. Get in."

He pushed the door open and scooted over.

As soon as I got in, I heard his inner thought: Good thing I'm here to keep her in line.

Me: ... This guy really has too much free time in his head.

The person I was supposed to meet soon appeared.

I thought Sebastian, with all his people, would beat them up or call the police to have them arrested.

After all, kidnapping for debt was illegal.

But he didn't. He just made one condition: Marcus had to come.

Sebastian's reasoning: "The debt and the collateral both involve him. If he doesn't show up, this is kidnapping. You don't want to go to jail, do you?"

25

The moment they saw him, the debt collectors lost