At the Wedding, My Husband’s Stepsister Stabbed Me

“Get dressed.”

After a long moment, Jeremy rose, picked up my coat and walked to the hospital bed, preparing to help me up.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, a little irritated.

“We're going to the bridal shop.” His tone was calm and indifferent.

“What do you mean?” I pushed him away when he tried to lift me into his arms.

Interrupted mid-motion, he frowned slightly.

“Your wedding dress is ruined. I've already contacted the designer to have a new one custom-made for you. He's leaving the country tonight. Don't delay any longer.”

Hearing this, I burrowed straight back under the covers, refusing to look at him.

“You know better than anyone why the dress was ruined. Instead of confronting the culprit, you're here tormenting me?”

“I'm not tormenting you. You're the bride, so you need to be present for the new dress fitting. I've also rescheduled the wedding and secured a new venue—it will be even more grand and magnificent than the first time.”

The more he spoke, the louder his voice became, as if I should be grateful that he still remembered to make it up to me afterward.

"Jeremy, a wedding dress can be mended—but how do you mend an injured body and a mind?" I asked. I struggled to sit up, propped myself up with my arms and locked eyes with him.

But Jeremy seized that chance to pick me up. And because of my injuries, I did not dare to resist.

“This hospital belongs to the Hudson Group. The doctors here are the best. You won’t be left with scars. As for Lucy …”

The moment I heard her name, a physical shiver went through me.

“I’ve already sent her to the villa in the mountains. There won’t be any accidents at next week’s wedding.”

So, this was the man I'd loved for eight years. Not only did he show zero concern when I was stabbed in the back, but he also shielded the culprit, afraid I might confront her.

“Jeremy, from just now until this moment, all you’ve talked about is holding the wedding again. Did you ever ask me what I think? Why are you so sure I’ll agree?”

Jeremy gently placed me in the passenger seat, fastened my seatbelt, then asked in disbelief, “We've been married for five years. If not me, who else could you marry?”

Facing such a natural question from him, my heart became colder.

“So … you knew we'd been married for five years all along. Then why did you insist on keeping it secret?”

As the engine started, I finally asked the question that had troubled me the most all these years.

Back then, when my father fell ill, he entrusted both the Carson Corporation and me to Jeremy before his death.

Jeremy had once been my father’s most capable subordinate. His talent in programming and computing was second only to mine.

Since I loved him and my father trusted him, after seeing our marriage certificate, my father closed his eyes in peace.

What I never anticipated was that after my father’s funeral, Jeremy insisted on keeping our marriage secret. He claimed it was inauspicious to celebrate a wedding so soon after a funeral and that it would damage his reputation.

I thought that in two years, at most, we would have a grand wedding. But three years passed, then four…

The wedding kept being delayed. Then, in the fifth year, he finally proposed to me and the wedding date was set quickly.

I thought my happiness had finally arrived—until I saw Lucy. That's when panic seized me...

Ring ring ...

The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts and questioning.

Jeremy turned on the car’s speaker immediately. Then I heard his secretary’s voice, panicked and fearful.

"Mr. Hudson, Miss Lucy escaped from the villa. We’ve searched for an hour, but we still can’t find her...”

Jeremy slammed on the brakes. The seatbelt dug into my wound and I felt a faint warmth flow. It was likely that the wound reopened.

Gritting my teeth, beads of sweat rolled down my forehead as I instinctively asked Jeremy’s help, "Jeremy, my wound …."

“Get out of the car!”

His icy, sharp tone instantly silenced me.

“What?” I couldn’t believe what he had just said.

“I said, get out! Anne, didn't you hear what Jean just said? It'll be dark soon. Who knows what lurks in these mountains? How could I possibly feel at ease leaving Lucy, a girl, alone?”

“Then what about me?” I asked instinctively.