After saying that, she turned to me, her eyes filled with warning.

"Jordan, leave now. Whatever it is, we'll talk after today."

"'Nobody important'? 'After today'?" My voice rose sharply. "Portia… you've really outdone yourself. I'll give you one last chance. Tell everyone here—right now—who your husband really is. As for JP Group… if I can give it to you, I can take it back just as easily."

The words she had been about to blurt out died in her throat the moment she heard that. She glared at me, teeth clenched.

"Jordan… are you threatening me?"

I shook my head, my tone calm, almost indifferent.

"It's not a threat. I just want to hear you say it yourself."

Her expression darkened, yet she said nothing.

The tension thickened instantly, and the crowd began to stir again.

"Ms. Reymus won't say anything… could she really be playing both sides?"

"Then Lucas's the real victim here—finding out on his wedding day that he's the third wheel."

Both Portia and Lucas looked increasingly grim.

At that moment, Portia's younger sister, Cadence Reymus, suddenly rushed out of the crowd and shoved me hard.

"You pervert! Portia has already rejected you so many times, and you still shamelessly cling to her—and now, you're even here to ruin her wedding!"

Then she turned to Lucas.

"Lucas, don't believe a word this lunatic says. He's mentally unstable—he has severe delusions. He's been harassing Portia for a long time, even stalking her and secretly taking photos!"

I stared at Cadence, burning with anger, but beneath it was something colder—disbelief.

Two years ago, when she had leukemia, it was my bone marrow that saved her life. Because of her condition, she couldn't work—it was my monthly financial support that allowed her to live like a princess.

And now, with a single sentence, she painted me as a deranged pervert.

Before I could respond, Portia pulled Cadence behind her.

As if she had finally made up her mind, she looked at me and spoke loudly, "Jordan, I pitied you before, so I never held you accountable. But today, you've gone too far. I'll say this one last time—I don't love you. The only person I love is my husband, Lucas Wynham. If you continue to pester me, don't blame me for what I do next!"

The moment she finished speaking, Lucas's fist slammed straight into my nose.

I collapsed to the ground as two streams of blood poured from my nostrils.

He planted his foot on my face, his voice vicious.

"You filthy bastard, how dare you harass my wife? You've got a death wish! Today's my wedding day—I was willing to let things go and not bring bad luck on myself. But you've crossed the line. If I don't teach you a lesson, I won't be able to swallow this anger!"

Humiliation burned through me, my vision turning red as I forced out the words, "I'm Portia's legal husband. We're officially registered!"

I thought the marriage certificate would be my strongest proof.

But the moment the words left my mouth, laughter erupted all around me.

One of Lucas's groomsmen crouched down, patting my face mockingly.

"Your 'wife' said you've got serious delusions—I didn't believe it before, but now it looks like she was right. You say you registered your marriage with her? Then take a look at this."

As Lucas's groomsman spoke, he tapped open a video and shoved it in front of my face.

In the footage, Portia and Lucas stood beneath the solemn national emblem, holding up their marriage certificates as they leaned in for a sweet kiss.

"Open your damn eyes and look carefully," he sneered. "Forget Lucas—even I feel like beating the hell out of you now."

With that, he stood and drove a hard kick into me.

A muffled groan escaped my throat, but my mind was elsewhere—fixed on the marriage certificate Portia and I had received.

That day at the courthouse, right when the staff member was about to stamp our documents, Portia suddenly said she'd left her phone in the car and insisted I go back to get it.

By the time I returned, she was already holding two marriage certificates.

I hadn't thought much of it then.

Now, it was painfully clear—she had been lying to me from the very beginning.

I forced my head up and looked toward her, speaking one word at a time.

"Portia… so everything from the start was fake, wasn't it?"

She didn't answer. She simply turned her head away, avoiding my gaze.

Lucas's voice cut in, cold and sharp. "Well? Got anything left to say now?"

I pressed my lips together and said nothing. Because I knew—no matter what I said, it would be useless.

But in Lucas's eyes, my silence looked like guilt. He slapped the top of my head hard, his tone growing even more arrogant.

"You've got guts, bastard. Not only did you ruin my wedding, you even dared to slander my wife. Guys, what do you think we should do with him?"

The groomsman who had shown me the video immediately chimed in.

"Lucas, isn't it New Year's Eve today? Why don't we make this bastard kneel and beg for forgiveness? It'll count as both an apology and a New Year's greeting. What do you think?"

Lucas nodded. "Not bad. Let's do that."

The next second, two burly men hauled me up from the ground.

One of the groomsmen kicked sharply at the back of my knees, and I dropped heavily to the floor.

Just as they pressed down on my head, about to force me into a bow, a sharp voice rang out behind us, "What do you think you're doing? Group assault? Don't want to go home for New Year's Eve—want to spend it in detention instead?"

At the sight of the police, the two men holding me immediately let go.

The crowd that had gathered to watch scattered in an instant.

Portia shot Lucas a reassuring glance, then lifted her skirt and walked forward.

"Officer, I'm Portia Reymus, CEO of JP Group. It's my wedding today—everyone's just fooling around. These are our wedding candies and gift packets. Please share in the joy."

As soon as she finished speaking, her assistant stuffed wedding favors and envelopes filled with money into the officers' hands.

The lead officer weighed the envelope in his palm, exchanged a glance with his colleague, and smiled.

"Congratulations on your big day. We won't disturb you any further."

They turned to leave.

"Officer, wait!"

Summoning every ounce of strength, I dragged myself up and staggered toward them.

"I want to report Portia for forging a fake marriage certificate to deceive me into investing heavily in JP Group. The amount involved is huge. Her actions constitute document forgery and fraud—I request a full investigation and that she be held legally accountable!"

The lead officer glanced at Portia, then back at me, his tone casual, almost dismissive.

"Oh? And where is this so-called fake marriage certificate?"

"At my home. I can go back and—"

Before I could finish, he cut me off sharply.

"In your house? You expect us to go back with you?" the lead officer scoffed. "And once we get there, are you going to claim it's somewhere else? What, you think we're monkeys here for your amusement?

"I'm warning you—if you don't want to spend New Year's in detention for spreading rumors, you'd better stop causing trouble."

The police didn't give me another chance to speak. They turned and walked away.

Seeing even the officers dismiss me as a liar, the onlookers no longer had any doubts. The way they looked at me was filled with contempt.

"If even the police don't believe him, he's obviously lying."

"Ms. Reymus is really unlucky to be harassed by a freak like this. Mr. Wynham, you've got to teach him a lesson and help her vent her anger!"

I was forced back onto my knees in front of Portia and Lucas. They pressed my head hard against the ground.

"You filthy bastard, start begging for forgiveness!"

"One hundred times. Not one less. Otherwise, don't even think about leaving here today!"

My eyes burned red as I glared at Portia.

"Portia… are you really going to do this to me? Are you sure you won't regret it?"

Her gaze was cold, detached—nothing like the tender, affectionate woman who had been on a video call with me just last night.

"Jordan, you brought this on yourself. As long as you admit in front of everyone that everything you said was fabricated, I'll have my husband let you go."

I clenched my teeth and refused to give in.

The next second, a heavy kick slammed into my abdomen.

A pained groan escaped me.

Lucas glared down at me viciously.

"I underestimated you. Even now, you're still stubborn! I was planning to let you go after the apology. But since you refuse to learn your lesson, don't blame me.

"Lock him up. After I finish my wedding, I'll settle this properly. I want to see whether your mouth is tougher—or my fists."

They dragged me away like a dead dog.

After only a few steps, Portia suddenly spoke.

"Wait."

She walked over, leaned close to my ear, and whispered, "Jordan, since you've already found out, I might as well tell you the truth—I never intended to marry you. You think just because you helped me, I should listen to everything you say? Well, I don't.

"Right now, I'm the largest shareholder of JP Group, and more than half the other shareholders are my people. If you're smart, you'll hand over all your shares to me. Do that, and I might ask Lucas to spare you. Otherwise, I guarantee you won't be able to survive in Garthem City."

I forced my swollen eyes open and let out a cold laugh.

"Then I guarantee… you'll regret this."

The moment I finished speaking, Lucas rushed over and grabbed me by the hair.

"How dare you talk to my wife like that? I think you're asking for—"

Before he could finish, a thunderous roar suddenly filled the sky.

Dozens of helicopters circled above the hotel.

Then, from one of them, a voice blared over a loudspeaker, "Release the Parker heir immediately! Otherwise, the Parker family will pursue legal action against you!"