Looking at the farce before me, I felt exhausted.

All these years, I had wiped and cleaned for Mrs. Miller without ever once complaining, but now I was done.

“Ryan Miller, are we still getting married or not?”

The laughter in the hall froze, and Ryan instantly let go of Sophia.

Sophia looked at my cold expression, like a frightened bird.

“I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I upset you. Mrs. Miller, I’ll leave now.”

Seeing her acting so pitifully made Ryan strangely irritable.

He ignored me completely and stopped her.

“You’re not married yet, so why are you calling her Mrs. Miller? Can’t you read the room?”

“The boss didn’t say you could leave. If you walk out now, do you want to get reported? Stay where you are!”

The air turned heavy.

Finally, my bridesmaid broke the tension, jokingly pushing Ryan away.

“Hold on, the groom can’t just whisk away the bride right after the photoshoot. You’ve got to get through the wedding games first!”

The door slammed shut, separating Ryan and the groomsmen from us.

My bridesmaids stood ready.

“Listen up, groom! You’ve got to answer the questions right if you want to take the bride!”

“First question: when was your first kiss with Emily?”

It should’ve been an easy question, but Ryan fell silent.

My fists clenched tighter.

Then a groomsman blurted out carelessly:

“First kiss? That was with Sophia! High school graduation night, Ryan had a few drinks, brushed his teeth three times, and then stole a kiss from her…”

Another chimed in,

“Yeah, and after that kiss, he didn’t eat for two whole days, just to preserve the feeling.”

The more they talked, the redder Sophia’s face grew.

And Ryan only fanned the flames.

“Yeah. If it weren’t for someone’s vanity and poor judgment, my bride today would’ve been her already!”

His cold laugh, dripping with insinuation, was a slap in my face.

I was nothing more than a joke to him.

Sensing my anger, my friend quickly changed the topic.

“Next question! What’s the bride’s favorite dish?”

Ryan didn’t hesitate.

“Sweet and sour pork.”

When I nodded, my friend sighed in relief.

But she didn’t notice my face had gone deathly pale.

Sweet and sour pork was Sophia’s favorite. I only said it was mine to save face.

Finally, the door opened.

Just when I thought I could escape and move on to the ceremony, the groomsmen barged in and surrounded me.

Several of them grabbed me, kissing me, groping me, some even trying to pull their pants down.

I struggled frantically, screaming:

“Ryan!”

At the sound of my cry, Ryan froze. He reached out toward me—

But a groomsman stopped him.

“Don’t forget, Ryan, this is part of the wedding tradition we agreed on!”

Ryan’s hand dropped back.

He looked torn, biting his pale lips, muttering softly:

“Emily, just endure it. This is our family custom. Every woman marrying into the Millers has to go through this…”

His words fell like a final judgment.

Tears streamed down my face.

For the first time, I saw through this man completely.

“I’m not marrying you!” I screamed.

But before I could finish, a foul mouth sealed mine.

All my rejection and resistance turned into muffled sobs.

As they violated me, they laughed:

“Spank the bride’s ass, and she won’t fall sick for three years!”

“Touch the bride’s cleavage, and her career will soar high!”

My bridesmaids weren’t spared either—they were assaulted too.

All except Sophia.

It all ended when one groomsman merely touched Sophia’s hand, and Ryan snapped at him:

“Stop it, Nick! Don’t go too far!”

I was left broken, my dress torn to shreds, barely covering me.

Meanwhile, Sophia remained untouched, just sitting in Ryan’s arms with a few fake tears, trembling like a frightened flower.

To her, he spoke only in gentle comfort:

“Don’t be afraid. No one will ever lay a finger on you. When you get married, you won’t have to go through these old customs either. Don’t cry…”

Only after soothing Sophia for a long while did Ryan finally remember me.

But his words to me were awkward, forced.

“Emily, don’t be scared. I’m here. We don’t have to put up with this anymore.”

“We can skip this step and move on to the ceremony.”

He tried to hold my hand—

But I slapped it away.

He froze, unease filling his eyes, like something precious was slipping away.

Panicked, he chased after me.

I grabbed a blanket to cover myself, kicked open the doors—

And there it was: the wedding hall full of guests.

At the front sat Mrs. Miller. When she saw my disheveled state, her face darkened.

“With all this fuss, how can you be my daughter-in-law?”

I glared at the woman who had ordered me around daily, and spat back:

“I’m not marrying him!”

But before I could take another step, the giant screen in the hall lit up, projecting videos and pictures of the groomsmen’s assault on me.

Every shameful moment was blown up, exposed to all.

Guests whistled, some hollered crudely:

“Why not let us guests have a turn too?”

The jeers and Mrs. Miller’s scolding face sent my head spinning, ears ringing.

Ryan rushed in, yanking out the wires to black out the screen.

But it was too late—the damage was done.

He tried to comfort me, but a pitiful sob cut through the air:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin everything…”

Sophia stood trembling, clutching her sleeves.

And in an instant, Ryan’s blame turned to comfort.

“I know you didn’t mean to. You’re not that kind of person. Don’t cry, please?”

His voice brimmed with helpless tenderness.

Mrs. Miller quickly joined in:

“Sophia, you’re such a good girl. Even if this wasn’t an accident, I wouldn’t blame you.”

She sighed.

“I’ve always liked you. If I hadn’t become paralyzed, you and Ryan would have been together long ago. That other woman would never have had a place.”

Her words were clear as day—

She was calling me the mistress who stole someone else’s man!