They Called Us Worthless, But Our Family Runs Everything

In the Bostonbridge antique trade, there were two famously useless people.

One was me, Marjorie Hughes. I owned a chain of antique boutiques, yet I spent my days eating, drinking, and doing nothing, so everyone called me the Hughes family airhead.

The other was my childhood sweetheart, Terry Henson, who couldn't stand bright light and had a serious heart condition. To everyone else, he was the useless heir.

But what nobody knew was that my eldest brother, Dudley Hughes, commanded both legitimate and underworld circles.

My second brother, Joseph Hughes, ran a top international antique auction house.

As for Terry.

His eldest sister, Cicely Henson, was one of the country's top attorneys.

His second sister was the heir to a heritage line of traditional medicine, and the life-saving medicinal pouch Terry kept on him at all times was made by her alone.

Terry and I had signed the papers and married purely as a business arrangement.

After the wedding we settled comfortably into being good-for-nothings, swiping my eldest brother's card and freeloading meals off my second brother.

Terry's sisters came by on schedule, bringing carefully prepared restorative herbs.

More than half a year drifted past like that, easy and content.

Then one day, Dudley got called away on a last-minute business trip, and the Bostonbridge antique gala he was supposed to attend in person fell to Terry and me instead.

But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it.

At that gala, Terry and I were beaten nearly to death by a woman.

……

Inside the banquet hall, the finest appraisers from home and abroad had gathered.

Holding Terry's arm, I was crossing the floor toward the buffet table to grab some honey-glazed pound cake.

“It's you! You shameless woman!”

A woman's shrill voice cut through the air behind me.

It was Diana Pruitt, eldest daughter of the Pruitt family of Bostonbridge.

Fury churned across her exquisite face, her hand clenched around a phone showing a blurry photo of someone's back.

In the picture, beside a black town car, a woman in a cheongsam identical to mine rose onto her toes and kissed a man in a suit.

“You actually had the nerve to seduce my fiancé, Ferdinand Gilbert. What a shameless little fox!”

I frowned, but kept my patience and explained.

“Miss Pruitt, you've got the wrong person. That isn't me in the photo.”

“Besides, I've never even met Ferdinand Gilbert. This is my husb——”

Diana wouldn't hear a word of it. Her hand flew up and a slap came straight at me.

A dark shape flashed in front of me as Terry threw himself between us.

“Crack!”

The slap rang out, landing full on his face.

Already frail, he took the blow hard, swaying on his feet as a thin line of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, please.”

Diana's eyes swept over Terry with contempt.

“A scheming little fox and a sickly weakling. A perfect match, really.”

She waved over two bodyguards.

“Teach this shameless little couple a good lesson!”

My heart lurched. I scrambled for my phone and dialed Dudley.

“Dudley, someone's hurting us, come quick——”

I'd barely gotten half the words out when Diana snatched the phone from my hand and hurled it down onto the marble floor.

It shattered, pieces scattering everywhere, the call cut dead.

I drew a deep breath and forced my anger down.

“Miss Pruitt, I already told you, you've got the wrong person!”

“Apologize now, and I'll forgive you.”

“Forgive me? Ha, ha, ha……”

She mistook my generosity for a guilty conscience.

Glancing around at the guests gathering to watch, she raised her voice in triumph.

“You all heard that, didn't you? A shameless homewrecker, caught red-handed, and instead of showing any remorse she has the gall to turn it around and say she'll forgive me!”

The moment she finished, the whole hall broke into jeers.

“What a little fox. Disgusting!”

“No wonder someone like her even qualifies for a gala like this. She's been selling herself around to land herself some 'brothers,' has she?”

Every word burrowed into my ears. My face must have looked terrible.

Diana jabbed a manicured finger toward my forehead, stopping just short.

“Hmph, still putting up a front? Hit her! Beat her until she gives in!”

At her word, the bodyguards swarmed in.

Fists came at me like rain.

I shut my eyes on instinct, frozen, not knowing what to do. But after a few seconds, the blows I'd braced for never came.

What I felt instead was a warm pair of arms.

Terry had thrown his arms wide and pulled me tight against him, and the fists rained down wildly on his back.

“Don't you……don't you dare hurt Marjorie.”

His voice was thin, his face draining white in an instant, every word an effort.

He'd forgotten his own body entirely. All he wanted was to protect me.

“Terry! Get out of the way!”

I fought frantically to break free, trying to drag him behind me.

But Terry summoned a strength I'd never seen in him, locking me against his chest.

The fists kept slamming down on his back.

I watched the color leave his face, his body trembling faintly with the pain.

And still he managed to give me a strained little smile.

“Marjorie, don't worry, I'm……I'm fine.”

Even like this, he was still trying to comfort me.

Fool. This complete fool.

My heart clenched into a knot, and a surge of courage rose up with it. Eyes blazing red, I screamed.

“Stop it! Terry has a heart condition. If you keep hitting him, you'll kill him!”

The lead bodyguard, watching Terry's condition turn worse and worse, hesitated, then turned to Diana.

“Miss Pruitt, he doesn't look right. If someone ends up dead here, then……”

“Since when do you get a say over me?!”

Diana slapped the bodyguard across the face and said coldly,

“He's just a sickly piece of garbage. If we beat ten of them to death, the Pruitt family can pay for it just the same. Keep hitting him!”

“Drag this filthy pair to the middle of the stage. I'm going to expose this little fox for what she really is, in front of everyone!”

The bodyguards didn't dare argue, dragging Terry and me roughly to the center of the stage.

Terry's breath came in shallow gasps, yet he still held my hand and wouldn't let go.

I felt like a sheet of paper drifting to the floor, letting them tear at me, and at last the tears came rolling down despite myself.

“Diana Pruitt, whatever you want, take it out on me. Don't hurt him!”

In the end my voice gave in, but it earned me not a shred of Diana's pity.

She looked down at me from above.

“What a touching little scene, the fox saving her sickly weakling. Let's see how this one plays out today!”

“Beat them to death for me. Not one of you hold back!”

“If they really die, I'll take the fall!”