After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me.

He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband.

I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him.

The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me.

The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains.

But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me.

My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately.

Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in.

"Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style."

I froze, staring at her in disbelief.

"How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!"

Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it."

Speechless, I immediately called Yves.

"Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

The day before my wedding, I discovered my fiancé's close female friend had turned the church into a bloody haunted house.

When I confronted my fiancé, Yves Laurent, he blamed me for making a fuss.

After I called the wedding off, he suddenly regretted it.

-

I never expected that Yves Laurent—who always seemed so honest and steady—could harbor such a grim, macabre taste.

Our wedding was tomorrow. The whole city's respectable families would be in attendance; if they saw a horror-show themed ceremony, they would mock me without mercy.

I had to stop it, but Yves's friend, Nina Cullen, refused outright and sneered at me.

I called Yves. His voice on the other end was dismissive. "Stop making a scene. You're being paranoid."

My expression hardened; I raised my voice. "I'm not making a scene. This isn't a wedding set; this is something else entirely—"

He cut me off and hung up.

I stood there, stunned. Was this the patient, emotionally stable man I thought I knew?

Nina's lips curved. "See? There's no point arguing. He already put me in charge of the decorations."

Her tone was smug and venomous. "Your father still has some value to his parents. That's the only reason they'd accepted you as a daughter-in-law. Otherwise, Yves wouldn't marry you. You're not his type."

She scanned me with contempt. "Pretty face, yes, but that's all you've got. When you get old, we'll see if Yves still wants you."

Her hostility surprised me; why did she despise me so much? Before I could parse it, she answered my question.

"I did this on purpose," she said. "Because I love Yves. I can't stand the thought of you marrying him."

She shoved me with deliberate anger. "Move aside. I'm not done. If you want to marry him, you'll have to live with it."

I braced myself; my fists clenched, nearly striking her.

Seeing her domineering attitude, I truly wanted to fight. But my superiors at work had warned me repeatedly to control my temper—to show restraint and avoid physical confrontation whenever possible.

I forced a deep breath and spoke coolly. "Whatever your relationship with Yves is, the wedding is mine to plan. Please leave."

Nina ignored me and instead barked orders at the crew. "Yes, put the dead rat here. That'll set the mood. The curse will then take effect."

The church looked like a scene from a nightmare; my anger flared.

Walking away seemed tempting, but if I canceled the wedding outright, I would lose face—and my parents would tear me apart. For their sake, I kept my temper and softened my voice.

"Nina, that's enough. Stop it now."

She rolled her eyes and answered loudly, "Not enough. I want everyone to remember this wedding."

She was sweet on the surface, rotten beneath. I had no patience for her theatrics. I stepped forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled hard. "Please leave."

She wrenched away and glared at me with venom. "Let go, you bitch!"

I didn't let go.

Suddenly, she produced a dagger and slashed at my arm. I couldn't dodge in time; the blade carved a line across my skin.

Pain shot through me. I stared at her in disbelief.

"You… stabbed me?"

Her face went black, a cruel grin spreading across it.

"I'll beat you up too!" she snarled, then barked orders at the motionless bodyguards standing nearby. "Hit her! If anything happens, I'll take the blame."

At her command, the guards lunged forward, hauling me up and slapping my face repeatedly. Each strike clouded my head until the world spun.

"Let go of me!" I shouted.

They didn't release me; instead, they struck my back a few more times.

Pain flared and I bared my teeth, furious.

"Are you insane? I'm the bride. This is my wedding church, and you're beating me up? You'll pay for this!" I warned.

The bodyguards ignored me; they were Nina's people. The crew nearby began whispering among themselves.

"That bride has no sense. Nina is Yves's best friend. She's decorating the church with his approval. Why not just go along and stop making a fuss?"

"Exactly. This must be with Yves's consent. What's the big deal? Just put up with it."

"She probably thinks marrying Yves gives her the right to call the shots. But Yves dotes on Nina. Everyone knows that."

Their murmurs grated on my nerves. I cursed myself for not investigating Yves's past before agreeing to marry him; if I'd known his social circle was so twisted, I would have chosen differently.

Nina's lips curled in scorn. "Hear that? I'm the person who matters most to Yves. If you kneel and beg me for forgiveness right now, I'll go easy on you."

I frowned. Her arrogance was ridiculous. "You bully me and attack me, and then you want me to kneel? That's absurd."

Her eyes flashed with violence. She raised her hand to strike, and I couldn't let her hit me. I struggled free, dodging her blow.

Every instinct screamed to fight back, but my superiors' warnings—stay calm, don't start a scene—kept replaying in my head.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to breathe. Better to endure this than cause a scandal that would spiral out of control.

Nina, undeterred, lunged again.

I coldly lifted my foot, prepared to trip her.

A voice shouted from behind, urgent and worried. "Careful!"

Someone shoved me hard; I crashed into the nearby table and chairs and tumbled to the floor with them, my limbs trembling from the impact. Anger cut through the haze as a fierce voice roared, "How dare you bully Nina!"

My mind went blank. I looked up. Yves, my fiancé, had shoved past and pushed me. He moved toward Nina, concern and protectiveness radiating from him. "Are you all right? Did you get hurt?"

Nina, feigning distress, suddenly puckered her face and looked at me as though wronged. "She's taken advantage of being your fiancée and attacked me," she told him.

Yves turned on me with cold fury. "You've gone overboard, Lucy. Nina's my friend. You will respect her as you respect me."

I laughed bitterly. What a joke. The man I'd chosen for his steady, patient nature couldn't even tell right from wrong.

I forced myself to speak calmly. "Yves, she started this. She's the one who—"

He didn't listen. He turned away and soothed Nina instead. "Don't take it to heart. Ignore Lucy."

My words died in my throat; they felt useless, like throwing punches into cotton.

Nina, playing the contrite angel, murmured, "I'm fine. Sorry to disturb your work."

My face hardened. The truth snapped into place: they were protecting each other. I had been foolish to expect a man I'd known so briefly to stand with me.

I pushed myself up from the floor and smoothed my clothes with a cold, defiant expression.

Yves stepped toward me, his gaze sharp and commanding.

"Lucy, I want you to kneel and apologize to Nina for bullying her."

I stared at him, stunned, fury straining at the edge of my composure. Of course—they were such good friends. Always demanding that others kneel. Did they really think they were gods?

My lips curled in a mocking smile.

"Yves, I am your fiancée. You want me to kneel before your friend? Don't you care about your own dignity? We may not have much affection between us, and you clearly side with Nina, but I am not someone you can order around like a servant. And besides, I'm not the one at fault. Why should I apologize?"

At that, Yves's anger doubled. The air thickened under the weight of his presence.

"Even if you're not at fault, you'll still apologize. This marriage exists only because your parents begged for it."

I frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

He gave a cold, gritted laugh. "Stop pretending, Lucy. Everyone knows you're desperate for me—so desperate you'd die to marry me. But I can't even look at you without disgust."

I clenched my fists and drew a sharp breath, denying him flatly. "That's impossible. We met through a blind date. I'm not so desperate that I must marry you."

His voice dropped, heavy with weary finality. "Don't lie. If becoming heir to the family didn't require me to marry you, I'd never give up the woman I truly love."

As he said it, his apologetic gaze shifted toward Nina.

At last, I understood. They were in love… and I was the interloper.

What a ridiculous farce. Had I known he already had someone he loved, I wouldn't have wasted a single glance on him.

"If you don't like me, then don't marry me," I said.

The staff nearby chimed in at once.

"You should be grateful you can marry Yves. Don't be ungrateful."

"Just yield and apologize, then this ends."

"If the wedding falls apart, you'll regret it forever."

I rubbed my temples, exasperated by their hypocrisy.

After a pause, I spoke the truth, so no one could accuse me of shamelessness again.

"Yves, I chose to marry you because you seemed decent. But clearly, I was wrong. I don't have to marry you, and this engagement doesn't need to continue."

The onlookers gasped.

"What? She really doesn't want to marry him?"

"She's pretending, right?"

"Impossible! Yves is perfect. Which woman wouldn't want him?"

"With the Laurent family's wealth and power, she'd never want for anything. She must be a fool."

"Young lady, why not endure this and apologize first? Get the marriage secured, then worry later. A woman without a man can't have much of a future."

Their words left me speechless. What twisted values.

So what if Yves was exceptional? To me, he wasn't. I had simply been blind. And I had never relied on any man for survival.

I had only agreed to this marriage to put my parents at ease. Now that I saw the truth, it seemed wiser to cut my losses.

Yves sneered, unconvinced.

"Lucy, kneel and apologize to Nina, or the wedding is off."

I met his eyes. "Then call it off."

Shock flickered across his face, his expression turning dark. When he realized my determination wasn't a bluff, a trace of helplessness clouded his eyes.

Nina, however, was radiant with joy. Clutching his arm tightly, her voice brimmed with expectation.

"Yves, she doesn't want to marry you. You don't have to marry her anymore."