Malcolm suddenly yanked Lumi into his arms, their faces way too close.

He shot me a smirk. "Irene, seriously? You're too old for these drama queen—"

I didn't even let him finish—I stood on my toes and kissed Emmett. No hesitation. Just heat and breath and silence.

For a split second, panic flickered across Malcolm’s face.

Lumi covered her mouth in feigned shock. "Malcolm! She's just upset because of me. Now she's using someone else to make you jealous!"

Malcolm's jaw clenched, veins popping. "Irene, quit acting petty. Lumi's actually decent, and you're still being a brat. Apologize. Now."

I brushed him off. "Mr. Lowell, this is MY wedding with Emmett. Don't embarrass yourself more than you already have."

If he could hand me off to another guy mid-ceremony, he didn't get to whine about saving face.

The crowd erupted—cheers, claps, the whole thing.

Malcolm's face drained, but his eyes lit up with rage. "Get down here. Keep this up, and you can forget about marrying me!"

I laced my fingers with Emmett's and faced the priest. "Let's move on."

Malcolm stormed up the stage, grabbed my wrist, and shot Emmett a dismissive look. "You're really gonna throw yourself at anyone just to spite me?"

I ripped my hand back. "And who says you get a say in who I marry?"

Malcolm froze, then lunged for me again, pissed.

Emmett stepped in.

He smiled, voice ice-cold. "Malcolm, it's my wedding. Try not to harass MY BRIDE."

'My bride.' That one hit hard—Malcolm's face twisted.

They stared each other down, all heat and ego.

Right on cue, Lumi ran up sobbing. "Irene, it's all my fault! You two just looked so perfect together—height, looks, background... I was only joking! I'm sorry! If you'll just forgive Malcolm, I'll leave the Irving family and disappear forever..."

But this time, Malcolm didn't leap to defend her. He just stood there, fists clenched.

"Emmett, what the hell? I told you it was a joke before the wedding. And you're actually going through with this?"

Emmett shrugged. "Looks that way."

Then he laughed, lazy and cool, sliding an arm around my waist.

"She's right. Thanks to you, I got lucky and married an amazing woman."

He leaned in, voice slow and sharp. "What's not yours was never yours. But don't stress, bro—I'll take care of everything you couldn't hold on to."

Malcolm lost it. Threw a punch.

Lumi screamed.

I watched them scuffle for a second, then raised my hand—security knew what to do.

Malcolm got dragged off, still glaring at me.

Under a flood of gasps and whispers, Emmett and I turned to each other.

We said our vows.

The priest smiled.

"You are now husband and wife."

After the wedding, once the crowd cleared out, I stood by the car, eyeing Emmett.

He looked away fast, lips tight—but his ears? Bright red.

Bold on stage, but now he's shy over eye contact? Cute.

Then he said, "Irene, don't waste your tears on someone who's not worth it."

Caught me off guard for a sec.

I didn't say a thing—just waved him over.

He hesitated, then awkwardly climbed into the back seat. I reached out and pulled him in.

He sat stiff as a statue, legs clamped together. I spotted the bruises on his cheek and lip, reached past him, and grabbed the first aid kit.

"Let me clean you up."

He paused, one brow lifted, then tilted his face up without a word.

I dabbed gently at the bruises.

Eyes still shut, he asked, "What are you planning to do now?"

"Move out. Cut Malcolm off for good."

A flicker of a smile touched his lips, but when he caught the tension in my face, he sighed and looked up, serious.

"I've got a few things to handle. In three days, I'll pick you up. We'll get the marriage license."

"Okay."

***

By the time I got back to the Irving estate, it was late.

Every light in the living room was on. Our parents were stiff on the couch, faces like thunderclouds.

Lumi was fake-crying into Mom's arms. "I was just teasing Irene... I didn't think she'd take it so seriously..."

With no Lowell marriage deal to cash in on, Dad was livid. But instead of calling out Lumi, he turned the full blast on me.

"Irene! Lumi's just a kid, but you? You actually went along with Malcolm's stunt?"

His hands shook. "The second you saw the groom had changed, you should've stopped the wedding! Do you have any idea how badly you embarrassed us?"

Mom gave me the classic disappointed look. "Tomorrow, you're divorcing that man—whoever he is—and announcing you're single again."

I cut her off. "I'm not leaving him."

The room went dead quiet.

I looked up, straight at them.

"Today was my wedding. You didn't show. Malcolm swapped himself out in front of everyone, and not one of you said a word. Mom, Dad—are you seriously telling me you didn't know?"

They froze for a beat.

"What nonsense are you spouting? Of course we didn't know! Something urgent came up!"

"You messed everything up yourself, and now you're blaming us?"

They scrambled to defend themselves, talking over each other.

I didn't need more proof. I'd been the only idiot in this whole setup from the start.

I cut in with a cold laugh. "Save it. I'll be back tomorrow to pack my stuff. I'm done being your eyesore."

Then I turned and walked out.

Just as I stepped out of the estate, my phone lit up—one of Malcolm's buddies.

I answered, and panic hit me through the speaker.

"Irene! You need to get to the hospital—Malcolm got drunk, got into a fight, and he won't stop calling your name..."

I stood there for a while, torn. Then I gave in, hailed a cab, and headed over.

When I finally reached his hospital room and went to open the door, I heard him inside.

"Told you she'd come," Malcolm said, smug as ever.

One of his buddies snorted. "See? She only married that other guy to mess with you. Soon as she heard you were in the hospital, she came running."

Another chimed in. "Come on, everyone knows Irene's obsessed with Malcolm. She drank herself sick meeting his clients, threw everything into his startup. No way she'd actually leave him."

"Man's got serious game—both Irving sisters, wrapped around his finger!"

Then someone scoffed, "But Irene's not the heiress anymore. Why bother marrying her? Lumi's the real deal. Better package."

Malcolm didn't even hesitate. "Who says I'm not marrying Lumi? I already told her I'd sign the papers. As for Irene? I'll just fake the license, keep her fooled. Let her keep working for us—like a live-in maid."

Laughter.

Then one of them said, "Damn, genius move. When she's back in your bed, Malcolm, mind if we get a turn?"

Malcolm snapped, "Enough. She'll be here any second. Shut up."

Outside the door, it felt like the floor dropped out from under me.

The cold hit hard, sinking deep. I bent over, chest tight, barely able to breathe.

All those years—everything I gave up, everything I did—he remembered. He knew. And still, this is how he chose to treat me.

Malcolm, you're beyond heartless.

Whatever feelings I had left? Gone. Burned to ash.

Tears blurred my vision. I grabbed the wall to steady myself, then turned and walked away without looking back.

After I left the hospital, I crashed at a nearby hotel just to get through the night. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing—Malcolm, over and over.

[Irene, where are you?]

[Why aren't you here yet?]

[Why the hell didn't you come?!]

I barely looked before blocking him everywhere. Then I called movers to clear out the rest of my stuff from the Irving place.

But the second I walked into my room, I froze.

Total wreck.

Everything was trashed—clothes shredded, stomped on, curtains yanked halfway off. Even worse? All my jewelry was gone.

My stomach dropped as I tore through the mess.

"Irene, how do you still have the nerve to come back?" Lumi sneered behind me. "Didn't you run off with that trashy new husband of yours?"

I didn't even flinch. I was done here. Just kept packing, silent.

But of course, she wouldn't shut up. She eyed the wreckage and clicked her tongue. "Malcolm got me a puppy. We cleared out your room for my baby. Why's there still trash lying around?"

So Malcolm helped trash my room too.

I let out this hollow laugh, too mad to hold it in.

"Perfect. Saves me the trouble. None of this is mine anymore. You clean it up."

I dropped the shredded clothes and turned to leave—until Lumi blocked me.

"If it's not yours, does that include this?" she said, waving a stack of my sketches.

"Looked like a lotta work. Must be important, huh? Too bad it's worthless. I'll go ahead and burn it for you."

Before all this—back when I was still their daughter—I had to hide everything I loved like it was contraband. Those sketches? Years of work, done in secret.

She looked at them like they were trash, and this cold dread sank into me.

I'd only ever told Malcolm. Never thought he'd spill to her.

"Those are mine," I said. "Give them back."

Lumi smirked. "You want them? Get on your knees and beg. Maybe I'll think about it."

For those sketches, I swallowed my pride. Dropped to my knees.

She lit up, laughing like she'd won.

Then—she ripped them to shreds.

"Oops, I ruined them by accident," Lumi said, all wide-eyed and fake sweet.

Something snapped.

I stood up and slapped her—hard. Went to swing again, but someone shoved me. I crashed into the cabinet, pain tearing through my wrist as blood gushed out.

Malcolm stepped in front of her.

He saw the blood, paused for half a second, then barked, "Irene, are you insane? You actually hit Lumi?!"

"It's not Irene's fault..." Lumi whispered, all fragile. "I just... accidentally ruined her things..."

"They're just some useless scraps of paper," Malcolm snapped. "What's the big deal?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Those were my sketches, Malcolm. You KNOW how much they meant to me. So why did SHE have them?"

He didn't answer. Just kept babying Lumi while shooting me a glare.

"Take her away," he told his men. "Watch her. Don't let her lose it again."

Then he walked off—careful, gentle—leading Lumi out.

Malcolm's guards dragged me into the Lowell estate's basement and tied me up.

The cold bit deep. Blood loss made everything spin. Darkness pressed in from all sides.

My vision blurred, fading fast.

Then—the basement door slammed open.

Light poured in. A figure broke through the glare, sprinting straight for me.