After the Rich Groom Broke My Ribs

Before I could react, Johnny had already grabbed a pair of tongs from the utility shelf and pinched up a wad of soiled tissue, moving to shove it into my mouth. He dangled it in front of my face. The smell was sharp enough to make my eyes water.

My heart hammered, and my throat tightened. "Get away from me! Don't touch me!"

I fought to shake them off, but my hands were pinned, and I couldn't move.

Daniel was doubled over laughing. "I love watching trash like you squirm."

He snatched the tongs from Johnny and drove them toward my mouth. I clamped my jaw shut on instinct, but the tip caught the corner of my mouth and tore it open. The taste of blood spread across my tongue.

That seemed to delight him even more. "Pry his mouth open. Anyone who helps me out tonight gets a car. One each."

The groomsmen needed no further convincing. They crowded around me, wrenching at my jaw. "You had the nerve to cross Danny? You've got a death wish."

In desperation, I bit down hard on one of their fingers. He screamed.

Daniel's expression shifted. He yanked my hair back and snarled, "So you want to bite? Fine."

He drove his foot into my back, and I hit the floor face down. The pain in my ribs was blinding, and I couldn't get air into my lungs. Before I could recover, he stepped down onto my wrist and looked at me with pure disdain.

"Trash is what you are. Head-to-toe fakes, and you thought you could pass yourself off as someone in my league?"

It was only then that I noticed it—we were wearing the same watch, a diamond-and-emerald piece identical in every detail.

Except mine was the real one. I had flown to Durmany personally to bid for it at an auction. There was only one like it in the world.

His was a replica.

I laughed despite myself. "You can't even tell a real diamond from a fake, and you call yourself old money?"

That comment landed hard. Daniel kicked the waste bin across the floor and bellowed, "You want to die? You're still mouthing off to me right now?"

He drew his foot back and kicked me again. The pain was bad enough that cold sweat broke out across my skin, and I nearly blacked out.

He clapped his hands together and called to the others. "Get his head in the toilet. Sober him up."

I lost consciousness more than once. Every time I started to come around, they pushed me back under, as if they were making a point of not letting me catch my breath. I lost track of how long it went on.

Eventually, they got bored and stepped back.

One of the groomsmen said quietly, "Danny, we should go. The reception's starting soon. Go get yourself sorted."

I lay on the floor, soaked through, and thought it was finally over.

But it wasn't. Daniel crouched before me, unhurried, his voice full of something mean and satisfied. "You know what, I've just had a thought. I want you to watch. Just like this, soaking wet and reeking, I want you sitting in that room while I marry Isabelle."

I lifted my head and stared at him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely," he said. "I want her to see you like this—filthy and pathetic. I want the sight of you to turn her stomach every time she thinks of you.

"And I want you to watch with your own eyes who actually deserves to be the Gardners' son-in-law."

He stood and looked down at me with contempt. "Find a bin and put him in it. I don't want him making a mess of the venue."

The groomsmen stuffed me into a large plastic tub and carried me out. Through its walls, I could hear the noise of the reception growing louder as we got closer.

Thomas' voice boomed from the stage. "What a joyful day for the Gardner family. Thank you all for being here. Now, I'd like to invite our longtime supporter, Mr. Jarvis, to come up and say a few words."

He called out a few times, but no one answered.

Then one of the groomsmen stumbled, the tub toppled, and I rolled out onto the marble floor. The dirty water inside spilled across the tiles, and the smell spread instantly through the room.

Guests recoiled and covered their noses. Someone gasped, "What is that smell?"

Thomas stood frozen on the stage, his face going pale and then dark. "What is going on? Who brought this in here?"

Daniel rushed forward and pointed at me. "Dad, you don't understand. This guy snuck into the wedding. He's been trying to get to Isabelle all day."

Thomas stepped down from the stage, his expression thunderous. "Who in their right mind walks into the Gardners' event and pulls something like this? Let me see."

The guests parted as he walked through. He crossed the room, and his gaze landed on me. The fury on his face stopped dead. He stood very still, like something had knocked the wind out of him entirely.

"Mr. Jarvis," he said. "Who… Who did this to you?"