No Ring, No Rights

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him.

I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror.

When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart.

When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

“Fran, when do you plan on having your wedding with that Smith boy?"

The same voice asking the same question. However, unlike my past life, I did not want to marry him this time.

The moment the screen in my hand darkened, I looked up at my mother and said earnestly, "But Mom, the one I want to marry is Simon Smith’s older brother, Spencer Smith!"

"Who?" my mother asked, her expression shocked. There was not a trace of anger in her tone, only disbelief as if she had misheard.

I did not blame her for her disbelief, though. Despite our families having decided our betrothal as a business alliance, everyone in Sea City knew I had been chasing him for a decade. I even made a vow publicly that I would marry no one else but him.

As such, I hugged my mom and repeated my words with even more determination.

The very next day after the engagement was finalized, however, I ran into Simon at an auction. The moment his friends spotted me, their faces lit up with mocking grins.

"Hey, Simon, your little shadow’s stuck to you again!"

"Come on, Fran, do you have to cling to him so hard even now that the engagement’s official? Can’t you let him attend an auction in peace?"

Hearing their taunts, Simon only grew more impatient. "Francesca, do you have to throw yourself at me like this?" he snapped. "You forced your way into this engagement without my consent and now the whole city knows you’re my fiancée. Have you no shame?"

Despite this being my second life, the disdain in his eyes still made my chest tighten.

After a long pause, I finally replied, "Why would I need your permission? You're not the one I'm marrying."

The moment my words left my mouth, the room erupted in laughter.

Simon's lackeys doubled over, clutching their stomachs as they jeered, "Simon, I’ve gotta hand it to your fiancée! I bet she’s got some other trick up her sleeve to get your attention!"

Simon frowned. "Francesca, you’ve gotten smarter, playing hard to get now, but it’s still useless.”

"Who else could you possibly marry when it comes to my family? My father?" He burst into mocking laughter before lowering his voice, "I can let the engagement slide. I can even give you a grand wedding."

Then, leaning in, he hissed, "But the marriage certificate? That’s reserved for the woman I actually want to marry."

I froze for a moment, then met his gaze with utter disbelief.

Despite Simon having already met that woman from the red-light district by this point in my past life, he still followed his family's arrangements obediently. We had very quickly obtained our marriage certificate and held the wedding.

Could it be that he...

Before I could decipher the truth from his expression, Carina arrived at the auction.

The moment she saw Simon and me sitting together, her eyes welled up with tears.

"Simon... I heard you're getting married soon," she said, her voice trembling. "I didn’t bring a gift, but... I just wanted to wish you happiness."

Then she turned to me, her lips quivering as she continued, "You're not angry, are you, Fran? I just wanted to see Simon one last time."

I shot her a disdainful glance and replied coldly, "Don’t call me that. I know you love the feeling of getting others wrapped around your finger, but that won't work on me."