Beatrice was practically grinding her teeth after she'd finished speaking.

Everyone felt the tension between us and tried to pull her aside, but it was all half-hearted. Deep down, more than anything, they wanted to see how this whole situation played out.

By then, we were only 15 minutes away from the official start of my wedding. People crowded around us, whispering and murmuring, "It's her wedding today. Can't they do this afterward?"

Beatrice held her head high. "I'll say it again. If any of you cut ties with Lucy right now, I'll reward each of you with 5,000 dollars!"

No sooner had she said it than Rupert came running over, panting, carrying a big black duffel bag. She ordered, "Put it on the ground!"

With a grunt, he set the bag down and carefully unzipped it. "Honey, 200 thousand dollars—our entire savings—are all here."

Everyone, including Shirley, froze at the sight of the pile of teal bills.

Shirley gasped, her voice tinged with newfound awe and flattery. "Hey, Beatrice. Are you serious about what you just said?"

Beatrice snorted. "Of course. I never lied. Besides, I'm richer than you all think."

Before that bag of money appeared, her words would've sounded nothing more than crazed rambling. Now, with the cash in plain view, everyone had to take her seriously.

Shirley, always quick to read the situation, tilted her head and looked at me. "Lucy, I wish you a happy wedding—I really do—but could you return my gift?"

Before I could answer her, Beatrice had already compiled 5,000 dollars in cash and shoved it into Shirley's hands. "Limited time offer, everyone! First-come, first-served!"

Seeing that Beatrice meant business, everyone rushed forward to reclaim their gifts, including a few of my relatives.

"Lucy, I know this will make you uncomfortable, but who could resist the temptation of money?" Aunt Sylvia said, shaking her head. "It's 5,000 dollars! That's way more than what I earn from housekeeping in a month!"

She spun around, practically screeching, "Over here! I'm cutting ties with my niece right now! Can you give me a little extra?"

The few remaining guests in the hall had gathered around Beatrice. And within minutes, the bag that had seemed so stuffed before was now emptied out.

Everyone quietly counted their money, while Beatrice tiptoed toward me. I frowned in confusion as she called the venue manager over.

Pointing at the beautifully decorated hall, she asked, "How much would it cost to rent out this entire hall right now?"

The manager glanced at me nervously, then turned back to her. "I'm afraid that's not possible, miss. This hall has already been—"

She cut him off. "I'll double what she's paying!"

He froze briefly, then tried again. "Well, our policy states that—"

"Triple!"

His hesitation was showing, and he was visibly flustered.

Beatrice said, "You know what? I'll pay four—screw it—five times the price! I want to rent this hall right now!"

By then, the manager could barely stand firm. He didn't even ask for my go-ahead and just nodded in agreement. "Alright, fine! I'll start changing the hall setup immediately."

The whole time, he acted as if I didn't even exist.

"It's okay. The decorations can stay," Beatrice said, smirking at me with a provocative raise of her brow. "Just discard that wedding photo in the center of the stage. The rest can stay."

At last, the manager pulled me aside. "Mrs. Clark, I'm sure you saw what happened. Our hall primarily exists to generate revenue. So… We'll cover any breach-of-contract penalties. You don't have to worry about a thing!"

I smiled dryly in response. "How kind of you to tell me not to worry, you backstabber."

The manager's face paled at my words. But shortly after, he snorted and signaled two staff members to toss my wedding photo out.

I couldn't catch it in time, so it landed face down on the floor.

As I bent to pick it up, Beatrice stomped on the photo, right where my face was. I looked up and met her scornful gaze.

"Back when you had it better than me, you looked down on me at every chance you got. Now, it's finally my turn to stick it in your face! I'm finally rich—as I should be!"

I clenched my jaw. "I looked down on you? When did that ever happen?"

"Playing dumb, huh? What were you thinking when you gave me that diamond ring in front of all my friends, huh?" she questioned, pressing her foot harder on the photo and twisting it around. "Just admit it—you were trying to show off!"

I burst into laughter. So, that was when Beatrice started despising me. It was no wonder she had reduced contact with me ever since she got married.

As it turned out, I was foolish enough to keep showing up for her.

In truth, I didn't buy her the diamond ring back then because I wanted to show off. I did it because she told me she loved it. Alas, due to her limited budget, she couldn't afford one.

Little did she know, I couldn't either at the time. I had to work overtime for a month at the company and even dipped into my savings to even afford it.

I had been an orphan since I was little, growing up eating at other people's tables. From the moment I met Beatrice, I treated her like family.

Now, looking back, I realized it had all been one-sided. Thankfully, I realized it in time.

The wedding photo was ruined anyway, and I no longer wanted it. Slowly, I straightened up. "Don't regret this, Bea."

It had cost me 50 thousand dollars to book this venue hall. Now, she would have to pay five times that—a grand sum of 250 thousand dollars.

Beatrice scoffed. "Me, regret? You're so short-sighted, Lucy. Wait until you see how much money I have. I'm sure that by then, you'll be begging to make up with me on your knees."

No sooner had she finished speaking than my husband, Benedict, came out of the makeup room. We were supposed to greet our guests together before the wedding, but Beatrice had accidentally spilled a drink on him earlier.

Thus, he had been stuck changing clothes with the help of the makeup artist all this time and had no idea about the unfolding chaos.

"What's… going on? Beatrice? What on earth are you doing?"

He saw our discarded wedding photo and reached for it, but two security guards stopped him.

"What do you think you're doing, Bea?" I seethed, shaking with anger, only to be pinned down by the bodyguards too.

"This is my venue now, and I don't welcome you two. In fact, you don't even deserve to breathe the same air as us. Hence, the bodyguards."

She waved impatiently, and the guards roughly shoved Benedict and me toward the door. She strutted out, her belly slightly protruding, holding a piece of paper in her hand.

Then, she had the manager stick it to the glass door at eye level.

The notice read, "No scum allowed!"

Benedict was fuming. He stepped forward to reason with Betarice, but I held him back.

Beatrice noticed this and sneered. "That's more like it. It's time you learn your place. You and I? We're not even on the same level anymore. The next time you see me, remember to close your eyes. Who knows if you'd get jealous and attack me?"

A few guests around her cheered and fawned over her.

"Beatrice, I knew from our school days that you were destined for greatness. Look at you now! I was right!"

Jane Miller looped her arm through Beatrice's, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I've always disliked Lucy. If I hadn't heard you were coming, I wouldn't even have bothered attending this stupid wedding!"

Ironically, even Aunt Sylvia joined in the praise, mingling with the crowd. "Beatrice, remember me? I didn't let you play with Lucy back then because I knew she'd ruin your good fortune. I knew she wouldn't amount to anything!"

Surrounded by the people fawning over her, Beatrice was helped inside.

Once the crowd finally dispersed, Benedict turned to me, baffled and furious. "What's gotten into her? Did something happen?"

I sighed and tried to organize my thoughts before explaining everything to him. His face was full of disbelief, but he believed me.

I gently patted his shoulder. "Let's just get married quietly on our trip. We don't need any of them anyway."

He cupped my face, his eyes full of affection. "Whatever you say, dear."

Staying in my wedding gown on the way home was uncomfortable, but at least I saw everyone's true colors today.

Before we even got home, my phone kept buzzing. Former classmates were sending me photo after photo, all boasting.

"Thanks to Beatrice, we get to enjoy this premium seafood buffet."

"Actually, thank you, Lucy, for setting this up. Without you, we wouldn't have eaten so much seafood today!"

I calmly switched off my phone. Deep inside, I knew, for a fact, that Beatrice was spending money she didn't have.

That afternoon, she dragged everyone to a jewelry store and splurged on all sorts of luxury items. With so many people in tow, there was no way she could've spent less than a million.

Clearly, she was convinced that she would win the 50-million-dollar prize. What she failed to realize, though, was that I had another lottery ticket in my pocket.

As the draw time drew closer, I couldn't help but look forward to seeing her reaction when she realized she hadn't won.

Just as I was wondering where she had gotten all that money, a friend who worked at a real estate agency reached out to me.

"Hey, isn't this your bestie's house? It's going for less than half the market price! Did she make a fortune or something?"

I laughed dryly. "Maybe."

It turned out Beatrice had sold her car and house just to keep up appearances in front of our former classmates. Everything at her disposal had been turned into cash, then handed out to others as if she were running a charity.

Late into the night, I was packing my things for my honeymoon when Beatrice called. Judging from her cocky voice, I knew she hadn't learned of what happened just yet.

"Guess where I'm staying right now? The luxury presidential suite. Ever stayed in one of those in your life?" she asked sarcastically.

"I'll have you know, Lucy, that after tonight, you and I will be worlds apart. By tomorrow, I'll be a millionaire! I'll have 50 million in the bank, something you'll never see in your lifetime!"

Her voice grated on my nerves, and I simply hung up at the next second.

The next morning, Benedict and I made sure to leave early.

Just as we were about to cross the border, Beatrice's relentless call came again. When I pressed "answer" this time, her furious shouting blasted from the speaker.

"What kind of trick did you pull on me? Where's my money? Where's my 50 million dollars? Why? Why am I still broke?"