My Brother’s Bride Insulted Me… Until She Learned Who I Really Am

"You know my parents hate anything unlucky!"

"What am I supposed to do now?"

On the phone, Maverick's voice sounded anxious. "Where is she? Where is she right now?"

Eliza shot me a sideways glance. "She's in my room."

"She's just a gold-digger. She even tried to extort money from me just now—so disgusting—"

Before she could finish, Maverick cut her off sharply. "Don't touch her. Stay where you are. I'm coming—right now!"

Then he hung up.

Eliza stared at her phone for a few seconds, stunned, before awkwardly putting it away.

Her bridesmaids immediately crowded around her, eyes full of envy.

"Mr. Peterson really treats you so well! The moment he heard something had happened to you, he couldn't wait to rush over!"

"Exactly! It's not even the scheduled time yet—so domineering!"

"Eliza, you're so lucky!"

Being praised like that, Eliza's smug expression returned instantly. She lifted her chin, acting like everything should naturally revolve around her.

Just then, one bridesmaid asked, "By the way, Eliza, what about your makeup now?"

Eliza froze.She looked at the smashed luxury cosmetics scattered across the floor, then glared at me. "You. Do it."

"But after you finish, you need to compensate me with ten thousand. And you must kneel to give it to me—to ward off your bad luck."

I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.

I couldn't stop myself from snapping back, "You want me to do your makeup for free, then kneel and pay you ten thousand?"

"Well, I refuse."

"You—!" She jabbed a finger at me, furious. "I give you face and you don't want it!"

Suddenly, a bridesmaid smirked. "Eliza, I thought of something. A perfect way to deal with a slut like her—and let you vent."

Before I could react, she grabbed several red envelopes and shoved them into the neckline of my dress.

The sharp corners tore at my skin, burning painfully.

I tried to pull away, but with several of them holding me down, I couldn't move at all.

She clapped her hands proudly. "When the groomsmen come to 'open the door' later, we'll have them search for the red envelopes. They can only enter once they find them."

Eliza's eyes lit up instantly. "Brilliant!"

"Hahaha, and don't forget her underwear. My husband's buddies love women like her."

"It's my wedding day—might as well give them some fun."

A rush of blood pounded in my ears.

Seeing them gather more envelopes, walking toward me, I shouted desperately, "Stop! If you keep doing this, I'll call the police!"

"Call the police?" Eliza burst into mocking laughter. "Go ahead. When they come, they'll only arrest a filthy woman pretending to be my husband's sister!"

She snapped her fingers. "Bind her."

They swarmed me instantly—one pulling my arms, another yanking my hair.

I struggled with everything I had, but they had the advantage in numbers.

They shoved the red envelopes everywhere—anywhere they could reach.

"Stop pretending! You're loving this, aren't you?"

"Exactly. You'd die for Mr. Peterson's buddies to get their hands on you!"

Rage and humiliation crashed over me, suffocating.

My screams and curses only made them laugh harder.

Not until they had stuffed red envelopes into every vulnerable part of my body did they finally stop.

Then they wrapped a bedsheet around me and tied me to the bedpost, movements rough and practiced.

Eliza dusted off her hands, then sat down gracefully. "You all do my makeup. Whoever does it best—when we're done, I'll have my husband give her a big red envelope."

On hearing that, the bridesmaids' eyes lit up in greed.