After my third dive searching for my missing fiancé Victor Crowe, I had a miscarriage. When I woke up and learned he was still alive, I pulled out the IV and stumbled back home. At my doorstep, I overheard Victor telling his friends, “Cordelia had a child with her ex-husband Damien Sinclair. Who knows if she still has feelings for him? I’m not satisfied with just marrying her like this. I’d rather set up a test to see if she’s willing to risk her life to save me.” Someone worried, “What if Cordelia finds out you tricked her and wants to break up?” Victor smiled confidently, “She’s easy to handle. Get her to sign a marriage certificate, throw a wedding, and she’ll obediently fall in line.” Two weeks later, I placed my miscarriage papers on my wedding dress and left him at the altar. The arrogant Victor cried until his eyes were red, searching all over Los Angeles for his bride. When I woke up in the hospital, the nurse told me I had miscarried. Ignoring the pain in my body, I opened my phone to check the message from the police. They said Victor hadn’t drowned and his location showed he was at Draco Villa. My tense nerves finally relaxed. Without waiting for the IV to finish, I immediately pulled out the needle and took a taxi to Draco Villa. But just before pushing the door open, I heard him saying to his friends: “Cordelia had a child with Damien. Who knows if she still has feelings for him?” My hand froze before knocking. I quietly walked to the window and saw Victor swirling his wine glass, lamenting, “I could have chosen from plenty of untainted women to bring home, yet I got engaged to her. Being too devoted makes me feel resentful.” Someone asked, “So Mr. Crowe, you pretended to drown just to test your importance in Cordelia’s heart?” Victor sipped his wine: “She fears water, yet got a diving certificate for Damien, and never dived again after their divorce. Even when I begged her, she refused to go snorkeling with me in Hawaii. It’s just aquaphobia—she overcame it for Damien but won’t make an exception for me? Such obvious preferential treatment clearly shows she still has feelings for her ex-husband.” The crowd murmured in agreement. Someone opened their phone and excitedly showed the screen to Victor. “Mr. Crowe, look! This woman in a black wetsuit captured by the drone yesterday at the shore looks exactly like Cordelia.” Victor examined it carefully, his mood instantly brightening. “At least she has a conscience.” “Aren’t you afraid Cordelia will discover your deception and demand a breakup, Mr. Crowe?” Victor twisted the engagement ring on his finger, smiling carelessly: “What’s there to fear? She’s easy to appease. Considering she was willing to risk her life diving to find me, I’ll reluctantly take her to get our marriage certificate. This issue will definitely be forgotten.” A chorus of teasing erupted around him. “That’s Mr. Crowe for you, keeping Cordelia firmly under control.” “A woman who’s had a child—marrying Mr. Crowe is like winning the lottery. She should know her place and be completely devoted.” Victor drank his wine slowly, neither confirming nor denying these degrading comments about me. His silent approval was like a knife, tearing my heart to bloody shreds. I looked down at the hospital gown I was wearing. Clutching my aching abdomen, I wiped away my flowing tears and quietly left. I was like a clown making a pathetic exit from the stage.
Lying in the hospital bed, I recalled some memories from the past. Before my family, the Belmont family, fell from grace, both Victor and Damien had pursued me. I accepted Damien’s confession and gave birth to his daughter. Unfortunately, she died due to premature birth. Not long after, the Belmont family went bankrupt. Damien’s mother, Amanda Sinclair, despised me for no longer being able to help Damien’s company, and began creating endless problems. She even threatened to kill herself to force Damien to divorce me. After the divorce, I was left with nothing. For a long time, I struggled just to make ends meet, my days both exhausting and bitter. It was Victor who gave me a flower shop. He tucked a small blooming sunflower behind my ear and said to me, “Cordelia, I hope you’ll grow toward the sun.” From that moment on, I noticed Victor, who had been quietly watching over me all along. After spending a year together, I confirmed that my feelings weren’t just gratitude or settling for second best, but genuine affection, and I accepted his confession. For three years of our relationship, I loved him sincerely. Six months ago, we got engaged, and Victor said he longed for a child of our own. For this, I gritted my teeth and took hundreds of doses of medicine. I had planned to give him the news of my pregnancy as a birthday gift. But now, there was no need. Three days after being hospitalized, I returned to the marital home I shared with Victor. He was wearing an apron, cooking in the kitchen. Seeing me return, he immediately embraced me and apologized softly. “Darling, I was wrong. I got a leg cramp while swimming, and after being rescued, I was unconscious for a while, which is why I forgot to contact you. I’ve made all your favorite dishes. Please don’t be angry anymore, okay?” I buried my face in his shoulder and sobbed. With my severely thin frame and deathly pale face, anyone would say I looked heartbroken. “You jerk! I spent three whole days diving to find you. I was so afraid you’d been swept away by the sea or eaten by sharks…” Victor patted my back, continuously comforting me. “It’s all my fault for making you worry. I promise you, I’ll never go snorkeling again. I’ll always stay by your side.” I continued to cry, barely able to catch my breath, and seemingly casually revealed a secret he didn’t know: “Back then, Damien took me diving, which caused my premature labor and the loss of my daughter. I had sworn never to go near the sea again. But when I thought you were in trouble, I jumped in without hesitation. Do you know how cold the water was, how scared and desperate I felt…” Victor’s body trembled. After his initial shock, deep guilt filled his eyes. What he had perceived as double standards or preferential treatment wasn’t proof that I didn’t love him at all. Remorse and regret overwhelmed him. That night, Victor held me and comforted me the entire time. In the days that followed, I stayed by his side constantly, with such devotion in my eyes that even I found it nauseating. My display of deep love pleased Victor immensely. It also greatly stimulated his desire to make amends. “Darling, the 28th of this month is an auspicious day. Why don’t we move our wedding up to that day?” How perfect. The fish has taken the bait.
During my hospital stay, my best friend Isabella Monroe came to visit me. When she learned that Victor had maliciously set me up, forcing me into the water and causing my miscarriage, she was so furious that she cursed his entire ancestry. “Should we beat him up and then break up with him?” “No, physical pain doesn’t last long enough. You need to make him regret it for the rest of his life!” Isabella advised me. “The best way to get revenge on a man is to take everything away when he’s in the spotlight, feeling happiest and most proud, thinking he has the whole world. Go back the day after tomorrow, show him your wounds, make him feel guilty and heartbroken. Help him pick out suits, plan the wedding, send invitations—weave him a beautiful wedding dream. Then on the wedding day, run away and throw the recording in his face. I guarantee he’ll lose his mind!” I followed her plan exactly, agreeing to Victor’s request for an early wedding and spending an entire day with him running all over Los Angeles. “Honey, a suit is just a suit, they’re all similar. I’ve already tried on more than twenty, can’t we just…” “Absolutely not,” I interrupted, pushing a white custom-made suit with diamond cufflinks into his hands while gazing into his eyes with feigned adoration. “I love you, and I want to announce to the world how important you are to me. I want everyone to know that my groom is unique and deserves the very best.” Victor’s ears suddenly turned red. He wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled his head against my neck. “Darling, why the sudden declaration? It’s so cheesy, but I love it.” I smiled as I pried his hands away, gave a perfunctory response, and pushed him toward the fitting room. A minute later, Victor emerged in his new outfit. Honestly, the pure, immaculate white looked like a desecration when worn by such a black-hearted scoundrel. But I was exhausted after pretending to be affectionate all day, and all I wanted was to finish quickly and go home to rest. So I forced myself to compliment him despite my disgust, and let him pay for the suit. That evening, after Victor finished his shower, he embraced me under the covers and his fingers began to undo my nightgown. “Darling, give me a baby,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, instantly snapping me awake. I threw back the covers and ran to the bathroom, where I vomited violently. When I finished rinsing my mouth and stood up, I found Victor holding a pregnancy test, offering it to me with hopeful anticipation. “Darling, could you already be preg—” “Impossible!” I cut him off coldly. Just talking about pregnancy reminded me of the innocent child I had lost because of Victor’s competitive nature. Anger, guilt, and sorrow made it nearly impossible to maintain my facade of calm. My sudden coldness and rejection froze Victor in place, his expression darkening. I pretended not to notice, walking past him to return to bed. A few minutes later, seemingly having consoled himself, he came to embrace me again, saying, “Darling, I’m not forcing you to have a baby. I just thought since you’ve been taking so many medications, if by chance you were pregnant, you wouldn’t have to suffer anymore…” Suddenly, a message notification interrupted his tender speech. Victor glanced at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Darling, I have an urgent matter at the company. You go to sleep first, don’t wait up for me.” With that, he changed into a shirt, tied a pink tie, and hurried out. My instincts told me something was wrong, so I called a cab and carefully followed him. The car stopped at a detached house in a neighborhood just two kilometers from our home. As soon as Victor got out, a woman in a bunny girl outfit threw herself into his arms. I watched as they passionately kissed, then Victor pulled off his pink tie, bound her hands with it, and led her inside with a mischievous smile. The nausea I had just suppressed came rushing back. I leaned against a tree, feeling like I might vomit up my bile. Tears blurred my vision. Despite the sweltering summer night, I felt chilled to the bone. “Cordelia, oh Cordelia, is this the good home you found for yourself?” Victor wasn’t just corrupt at heart—he was thoroughly corrupt. His decade-long act as a caring, silently devoted partner was all just a performance. Early the next morning, Victor returned with a sandwich. “Honey, this is your favorite breakfast. I waited in line for over an hour to get it.” Victor acted like we were still in the honeymoon phase, trying to feed me the sandwich himself. I was hungry and too drained to resist, so I let him. Halfway through eating, the furniture installers I had scheduled weeks ago arrived. While Victor went to supervise them, I picked up his phone. His password was the date we got together. I had trusted him completely. Or perhaps he was just too convincing at pretending to be madly in love with me. Either way, I had never checked his phone before. And now, reality slapped me hard in the face. In a chat with someone saved as “Aria,” the messages were too explicit to bear. There were provocative invitations from last night and a message sent just ten minutes ago: [Victor, I made this sandwich with my own hands, filled with all my love for you. Make sure you eat every bite~] The sandwich in my hand dropped heavily. The food in my mouth suddenly became impossible to swallow. I spat it into a napkin and threw it in the trash. After checking Aria’s Facebook, I discovered she had been sleeping with Victor for six years. Their relationship had continued uninterrupted until now. Every night he claimed to be working late or on business trips, they were actually having an affair at his villa. In that moment, I realized I might actually be the other woman. My hatred for Victor reached its peak. I put down the phone and went to find Isabella. “What should I do? I can’t keep pretending. I want to confront him.” When Isabella learned that Victor had been keeping a mistress and wouldn’t cut ties even as our wedding approached, she became even more furious than I was. “That bastard! That animal! I want to cut him up and see if he can still fool around!” After her outburst, she hugged me comfortingly. “Just hang in there a little longer. Only two weeks left. I’ve booked you a ticket abroad and arranged a position at my brother’s company. You can stay overseas and never return to this heartbreaking place.” When I got home, Victor hadn’t returned from work yet. Looking at the wedding dress hanging in the closet, I didn’t hesitate to take scissors and cut it to shreds. In the evening, Victor came home from work. I took out the wedding invitations and asked him to write them himself. “Honey, there are over two hundred invitations. How long will it take me to finish? Can’t my assistant do this instead, hmm?” “Too much trouble? Then maybe we shouldn’t get married at all.” Victor immediately panicked and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. He held me so firmly, as if I were a treasure he might lose if he let go. “Honey, don’t joke about that. I’ve waited ten years for this day. Marrying you is my greatest wish in life.” He kissed my forehead, his gaze tender. “Why don’t we go get our marriage license tomorrow? There’s still half a month to go, but I can’t wait…” Half-jokingly, I said, “You’re so nervous. Did you do something to hurt me and now you’re feeling guilty?” The arm around my waist suddenly stiffened. Victor’s entire body tensed, and his eyes became evasive. “How could I? I love you more than anything. Oh, the ink is drying up. I need to keep writing…” My heart felt bitter and disappointed. On the invitation, he wrote in gold lettering: [I’ll Love You Forever]. Victor looked up and smiled at me, “Honey, days like these feel like a beautiful dream. I’m really looking forward to it.” Good that he’s looking forward to it. That way, his heartbreak will be even deeper. At two in the morning, he finally finished writing all the invitations. Victor put them away with satisfaction and went to the bathroom to wash up. I secretly took one invitation, planning a surprise for the wedding where the bride would be absent. But I never expected my plan would face complications. Ten days before the wedding, Damien called me. He started with, “Victor is cheating on you.” Afraid he might interfere with my plan, I agreed to meet him at a café. As soon as we sat down, he pushed a thick stack of photos toward me. Without even looking at them, I asked, “So what?” Damien was momentarily stunned. After recovering, he became extremely agitated. “You knew he was cheating all along and still want to marry this complete waste? Are you insane, Cordelia Belmont?” I remained unmoved. I took a sip of my coffee and countered, “And what’s the alternative? Should I go back to a mama’s boy like you, get divorced again, and lose my daughter and all my assets?” Damien instantly deflated: “No, don’t say that… Cordelia, I love you. I haven’t touched another woman in the four years since you left, I…” I couldn’t help but laugh mockingly: “Do you men have some kind of loyalty quota to fulfill? Always performing these pathetic acts.” I picked up my bag, ready to leave. But Damien grabbed my wrist. “Cordelia, I wronged you before. I won’t stop you from pursuing happiness, but I can’t stand by and watch you jump into the fire. Victor probably only pursued you to spite me in the first place—he doesn’t love you at all!” With a loud slap, I struck him across the face. “Are you proud of belittling me? In your mind, am I just a fallen heiress who doesn’t deserve happiness, only fit to be a trophy in your male competition games?” “No, it’s not like that, Cordelia. Please don’t be angry. I just don’t want you to marry him and end up heartbroken. Let me take you away…” Damien begged desperately. But I pried his fingers off one by one and walked away without looking back. Clearly, Damien didn’t listen to me. In the days that followed, Victor nervously shadowed my every move. He’d nearly have a heart attack whenever I so much as checked the time on my phone. Of course, I knew rumors of his affair were spreading everywhere. But I pretended not to see or know anything. I took him to amusement parks, to watch the sunrise, to stroll hand in hand around our old university campus, and to buy cotton candy together. At each place, I nostalgically recalled details of how he had pursued me. Isabella was right—you have to make a man remember how hard he worked to win you, so he’ll regret it more deeply when he loses you. Sure enough, after several such outings, combined with his guilt over the cheating scandal, the love in Victor’s eyes when he looked at me grew increasingly intense. He stayed up for two nights straight designing a fireworks display called “Ten Years” to be set off on our wedding night. He personally reviewed every detail of the wedding, meticulously considering even which flowers should go where. He even spent fifty million dollars to buy a star and name it after me to commemorate our marriage. “Darling, we’re getting married soon, right?” he asked. “Of course, the wedding is the day after tomorrow.” Victor held my hand, asking me to make a promise. “Darling, promise me that even if you discover I’ve made mistakes, you won’t leave me. You can hit me or scold me, I’ll change, but please don’t abandon me…” I joked, “Is getting married making you this nervous? There’s still one day left—it’s not too late to cancel the wedding.” Victor, this was the last chance I was giving you. Unfortunately, he refused it. “Darling, don’t scare me. We will get married. I absolutely must make you my wife.” On our wedding day, I woke up very early. I placed my abortion papers and Damien’s photos on top of the shredded wedding dress. Just before my flight took off, I received a photo from Victor. In the luxurious wedding venue, he stood in a perfectly tailored white suit. Holding roses, he looked nervous yet excited. “Darling, you must look beautiful today. I can’t wait to say ‘I do’ in front of everyone.” Suddenly, I found myself looking forward to it. I was eager to see Victor’s expression two hours later when he discovered I had fled and Aria was the bride instead.
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