Seeing that I had agreed, Grayson finally showed a pleased expression. He came closer and whispered to me, "Don't worry. You're obedient, sensible, and the perfect match for my status. Only you are worthy of being my wife.

"Maeve comes from nothing and has a wild temper. She's only fit to be a mistress. She'll never be able to threaten your position as Mrs. Thatcher."

In my past life, he had said the exact same thing. Mom had also advised me that all men were like this, especially wealthy men. Expecting them to be faithful was impossible. Dad had women on the side too, but he knew his limits and always prioritized our family.

Hence, I endured it again and again. Like some traditional matriarch, I tolerated his endless parade of women, cleaned up his mess, and single-handedly built up the Thatcher family's business so that he had enough money to squander.

What I got in return were countless cold, lonely nights eating reheated leftovers by myself, birthdays that were never remembered, and hospital stays during illness without my other half by my side.

I had thought about divorce, but the moment that idea surfaced, Mom personally crushed it.

"If a man doesn't come home, it's because you're not doing enough. You're not being understanding enough. Don't worry. He's just young right now, so he likes those wild, crazy women out there. When he's older, he'll understand how important a good wife is."

I waited and endured. I never got those better days. Instead, I ended up with a terminal illness.

My obedience earned me his resentment, his complaints that I was boring, and the declaration that I did not even deserve to be buried beside him.

The qualities I took pride in became reasons for him to trample on me. The business I had worked so hard to build ended up benefiting the adulterous pair instead.

What a ridiculous life.

Grayson turned toward Maeve.

"Alright, babe. The engagement's postponed. Are you satisfied now? All these people are watching. Can we stop making a scene?"

However, Maeve had no intention of backing down. She stared at the bracelet around my wrist and pouted in dissatisfaction.

"But you're still going to marry her eventually. You think throwing me this scrap is enough? What am I, a beggar? I want that bracelet! Otherwise, I'm not dropping the rape charge. You'll end up in jail either way, and then you won't be able to get married at all!"

I raised an eyebrow, covered the bracelet with my other hand, and stepped back warily. "This is the only thing my grandmother left me."

Grayson sighed and pulled Maeve aside to comfort her for a while. She still refused to compromise, shouting loudly and drawing an even bigger crowd. His anger flared instantly, though not at Maeve. He turned on me instead.

"People can't come back from the dead. It's just a bracelet. Give it to her! Do you have to push Maeve to make a scene and embarrass both our families before you're happy?"

It was his mess, and Maeve was the one causing the scene. I had done absolutely nothing wrong. Yet he was trying to pin all the blame on me and force me to hand over my grandmother's keepsake.

Absolutely not.

When Grayson saw that I would not give it up, he reached out and grabbed it.

I had not expected him to resort to force in front of everyone. Before I could react, he yanked the bracelet off my wrist roughly. A sharp pain shot through my arm. When I looked up, I saw Grayson gently cradling Maeve's hand, carefully slipping the bracelet onto her wrist as if he was afraid of hurting her.

In my memory, he was always rough and reckless. Only with Maeve did he become tender and careful. That was what it looked like to truly love someone. He instinctively protected her and cherished her.

In my past life, even until my death, I had still been hoping that my obedience and understanding would earn me even a sliver of that love.

I shook my head to clear away those thoughts and moved forward to snatch the bracelet back. "Give me back what's mine!"

I had barely gotten close when Maeve pretended to twist her ankle. With a theatrical cry, she fell toward the ground, deliberately slamming the hand wearing the bracelet down hard.

The sharp sound of something shattering cut through the noise distinctly. The air went silent for a moment.

I stared at the bracelet that had been broken into three pieces. My heartbeat stopped.

My grandmother had raised me since I was little. Before she passed, she was most worried about me, so she gave me her most precious and valuable possession. Yet I had failed to protect it.

Maeve made an exaggerated show of shock, but her eyes glinted with cunning. "Oops, I broke it by accident. You won't blame me for that, will you, Calla?"

That provocative tone and those mocking eyes completely ignited the rage that had been building inside me. Thinking back on all the humiliation I had suffered at her hands in both my past and present lives, I could no longer maintain my composure.

I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face.

The sharp sound rang out, and the entire scene fell into dead silence. Everyone's eyes turned to me. No one had expected that I, who had been taught from childhood to always be gentle and graceful, would publicly strike someone.

Grayson had not expected it either. He froze in place, staring at me blankly.

Seeing this, Maeve immediately became indignant. "He raped me, and now, his fiancée hits me too! I can't live like this. I might as well die!"

She clutched her injured cheek and moved as if to throw herself against the wall. She looked resolute, but her movements were slow and deliberate. Her eyes kept darting toward Grayson as she waited for his reaction.

The acting was terrible, but Grayson could not see through it at all. He rushed over anxiously to hold her and comfort her, promising to give her justice.

I bent down and picked up the broken pieces of the bracelet one by one. My finger was cut by a sharp edge, and bright red blood dripped onto the floor—as my heart had been for years.

Grayson did not notice the blood on the ground or the wound on my hand. He shoved me hard. "Calla Finley! You actually hit someone! Look at yourself. Where's the refined lady you're supposed to be? You're nothing but a shrew!

"Besides, Maeve was wearing it just fine. If you hadn't charged out and scared her into falling, the bracelet wouldn't have broken. Instead of reflecting on your own actions, you resorted to violence. You call yourself a socialite? Even a common woman has more sense than you!"

After ranting at me, Grayson scooped Maeve up in his arms and carried her toward my house.

The onlookers stared at me with varying expressions. Some pitied me, others looked gleeful, and a few just seemed entertained. The humiliation was unprecedented, as if I had been stripped naked for everyone to gawk at.

I clenched my fists. The shards from the bracelet dug deep into my flesh.

All my life, I had done everything perfectly, never displeasing anyone. I was always the one being praised and complimented.

Yet now, when I was simply defending my own rights, he made me out to be the unreasonable one!

…

Back inside the house, Grayson held an ice pack and gently pressed it against Maeve's face. His brows were deeply furrowed with worry, as if she had contracted some serious illness.

While tending to her, he shot me a venomous look.

"Look what you did. You've ruined her beautiful face. Aren't you going to apologize to her?"

My whole body trembled.

He truly pampered Maeve to the extreme. Maeve was slapped for provoking me, which was exactly what she deserved. Yet not only did Grayson humiliate me in public, but he was also forcing me to apologize.

Years ago, when I was six months pregnant and one of his drinking buddies kicked me and caused me to miscarry, he showed no sympathy. Instead, he blamed me for being incompetent and failing to protect his child.

What was more, before I had even finished recovering from the loss, he forced me to apologize to that friend. His reason was that the sight of all that blood had given the man nightmares for nights on end, so I owed him an apology.

I took a deep breath, pushing down the resentment in my chest. I gathered the bloodstained fragments without acknowledging either of them.

Maeve raised her eyebrows with exaggerated magnanimity, acting as if she were above such petty disputes. She said softly, "Forget it. It's all my fault anyway, right? After all, I broke the bracelet first, so I deserved to be hit."

She said it casually, but Grayson immediately frowned and scoffed. "Even if you did break it, you did nothing wrong. Wearing jewelry from dead people is morbid anyway. It's better that it broke. She had no right to hit you, no matter what.

"Calla, apologize right now. Otherwise, this wedding is off. Someone with no manners has no place in the Thatcher family!"

Maeve was thrilled at the prospect of Grayson calling off the engagement. Her eyes gleamed with cunning as she said, "Forget it, Grayson. You two have been engaged since childhood. If you break it off, it'll hurt your reputation.

"I just need her to apologize. That's all. But I'm not someone who accepts cheap gestures. A few empty words won't cut it. Unless… Calla, you agree to let me and Grayson have a wedding. No, wait. I want you to plan it yourself."

Maeve's brows lifted slightly, her eyes bright. Her bold, uninhibited demeanor was fatally attractive to Grayson, who had been raised under strict rules his whole life. His eyes were filled with affection as he cupped Maeve's face and smiled.

"Our engagement is only a verbal promise. I don't care about it at all. But you're so thoughtful, always considering what's best for me. I can't ignore that."

He turned to look at me, his gaze gradually turning cold. "Do as Maeve says. You'll still have the title of Mrs. Thatcher anyway, so you're not losing out. Maeve has been with me without any recognition or status. The least she deserves is a wedding."

As soon as he said that, the room erupted. Even Dad, who had been silent until now, changed his expression.

"Grayson Thatcher, even if your family did me a favor once, you can't bully my daughter like this. Making her plan a wedding for you and your mistress? Do you have no decency? I'm telling you, my daughter will never..."

Just as Dad was about to reveal that I had chosen someone else, I raised my hand to stop him.

"Dad, don't. I'll do it. Not only will I plan it, but I'll even make sure it's a grand, spectacular affair."

Maeve had initially assumed I would refuse such an absurd condition. She was ready to use it as an excuse to pressure me into breaking off the engagement myself. When I agreed to plan the wedding, she thought I was desperate to marry Grayson. Her expression darkened completely.

Grayson had not expected me to accept his idea so quickly either. Pleased, he gradually smiled at me. "If you'd been this understanding from the start, none of this would've happened. Don't worry. As long as you behave and don't cause trouble, the three of us can definitely make this work."

I let out a cold laugh but did not respond. Three people could never make it work. I had no intention of repeating the same mistakes and dying miserably again.

Grayson did not care whether I responded or not. As he walked toward me, he finally noticed the injury on my hand and looked surprised. "Your hand is hurt. Why didn't you say anything? You're bleeding so much. Does it hurt?"

Before he could get any closer, Maeve immediately clutched her swollen cheek and exclaimed dramatically, "My face is injured from the hit. Will it make me look bad on the day of our wedding? Can you take me to the hospital right now to get it checked?"

Grayson's expression turned serious instantly. "You're right. That's what matters. We can't delay."

I scoffed. I had actually thought he had changed for a moment. It turned out he was just in a good mood and threw me a scrap of concern.

As if to placate me, Grayson kept reminding me to get my hand treated before he left. I did not need his nagging. I would take care of it myself.

After spending over a decade with him in my past life, I had long since grown used to licking my wounds alone. I carefully picked out the shards embedded in my flesh, then disinfected and bandaged the wound.

After enduring pain for so long, even my body had gone numb. More than the injury, the destruction of my grandmother's keepsake was what broke my heart.

I contacted people everywhere in hopes someone could repair it. Shortly after, my best friend called me back.

"Calla, I found a restoration expert. He's worked on museum pieces and can fix anything. I asked him about your bracelet, and he said it's no problem."

Hearing my friend's words, the weight on my chest finally lifted. I nearly cried with relief. "That's wonderful. I don't care how much it costs. As long as he can restore it, I'll pay anything."

My friend laughed mischievously. "He doesn't need the money. Restoration work is just a hobby for him. He's gorgeous too, six foot three and a total heartthrob. Want me to introduce you? He's way better than that scumbag Grayson Thatcher."

I gently declined.

My friend grew anxious. "You're not seriously going to marry that bastard, are you? Everyone in our circle knows about all the awful things he's done. Don't be stupid and throw yourself into that pit of fire."

It seemed the publicity campaign was working well. A faint smile tugged at my lips. "Don't worry. I've chosen a different match."

I would not waste another moment of my life on Grayson.

Just as the bracelet situation was resolved, my engagement to Emmett Harlow, the son of the wealthiest man in the country, was finalized. Both families sat together to discuss setting a date for the formal engagement. The registration of marriage and the wedding would require much longer preparation.

Emmett's mother smiled warmly. "Calla, what kind of wedding would you like?"

I smiled back. "I'm fine with anything. I'll leave it to the elders to decide."

It was just a strategic marriage anyway.

She waved her hand repeatedly. "That won't do. A wedding is one of the most important events in a person's life. Whether it's the venue or the dress, you two must genuinely love it.

"Emmett, clear your afternoon schedule and take Calla to try on wedding dresses. If she doesn't like any, we'll commission custom designs. We absolutely can't let her feel shortchanged."

I froze slightly, feeling warmth rise in my chest. In my past life, my wedding to Grayson had been rocky and half-hearted.

Grayson's mother had insisted that once I married into their family, I would be their daughter-in-law. The Thatcher company was already declining and desperately needed money. I had to economize on everything while still ensuring they did not lose their reputation in front of outsiders.

To meet their harsh demands, my family ended up covering most of the expenses.

Yet on the wedding day, Grayson still did not show up. The news of it went viral. He became the notorious playboy heir and even gained a following of young admirers.

Meanwhile, I was the one left at the wedding venue, being gossiped about. Some said I was incompetent, that I could not even control my own husband and that I was a complete failure.

Just thinking about those awful experiences made it hard to breathe.

Fortunately, I did not stay lost in those memories for long. Emmett's deep, magnetic voice pulled me back to reality.

"Is now a good time for you, Calla? We can go right away or reschedule if that's more convenient."