Dumped at the Altar by My 'Amnesiac' Fiancé

Vanessa's words sent the crowd into an uproar of laughter, her face glowing with pride.

“Danna, have you gone insane dreaming about marrying the richest man in New York? Now you're even making up stories about marrying a prince?”

“Do you know that even Loren doesn’t have the qualifications to meet Prince Charles face-to-face? He heard the prince was visiting New York and begged the mayor for an introduction six months in advance. He’s been collecting rare treasures from all over the world just for the chance to impress him. I heard the prince dotes on his wife so much, he even spent a hundred million bidding for the Queen’s coming-of-age necklace to gift her.”

“And you dare to make up such outrageous lies, tarnishing the prince’s name? Is this because you’re jealous that Loren doesn’t want you? Are you trying to sabotage his big opportunity?”

The moment her words landed, Lorenzo’s expression darkened. Without warning, he slapped me hard across the face, sending me crashing to the ground.

“You filthy wretch. I didn’t think you could be this malicious. Just to satisfy your sick jealousy, you’re willing to ruin me like this? Prince Charles is nobility—why would he ever touch a trash like you?”

Vanessa clung to Lorenzo, her voice was laced with concern.

“Loren, your ex-fiancée is so jealous she’s pretending to be the princess? If the prince finds out, he might think you have poor taste. Would he still be willing to work with us after that?”

Impersonating royalty—what a joke. I glared at Vanessa, who once cowered like a frightened rabbit.

I remembered when she worked as a server in a hotel. One night, a drunk guest tried to drag her into the bathroom. She nearly lost everything.

Out of pity for her—an orphan with no one—I stepped in. I offered to pay for her tuition and living expenses so she could focus on school. I treated her like a sister, bought her clothes, invited her to live in my home and dine at my table.

Back then, Lorenzo warned me, “You’re too soft-hearted. Poor people can be insecure and vengeful. Don’t end up raising a snake.”

But now, he believed every poisonous word out of that snake’s mouth and hurled insults at me like I was nothing.

Lorenzo suddenly kicked me in the stomach, hard.

"I've indulged you far too long, letting you fixate on me. But today, it's time you learned your place—and gave up.”

He yanked me up by the hair and slapped me twice across the face.

Maybe realizing it looked bad for a man of his status to beat a woman, he paused, then turned to Vanessa.

“Vanessa, didn’t Danna used to boss you around just because she had money? Made you wash her underwear, massage her feet? Today, your husband’s got your back. Go on—get even.”

He shoved me down again, pinning me so she could strike.

Vanessa hesitated at first, but then her eyes sparkled with glee.

“Danna, why did you get to live so high and mighty? Why did you get to order me around? I’m smarter than you, prettier than you. So why did you get to live a privileged life while I had to beg for scraps?”

With that, she landed several vicious slaps across my face.

My cheeks burned with searing pain.

Aaron and Arthur, my twin sons, were frozen in shock. They had never seen violence like this. From birth to age three, they’d been surrounded by love and cared for by maids. This was their first taste of brutality.

They burst into tears and threw themselves at me, crying, “Mommy!”

Vanessa grabbed Aaron and smacked his fair little cheeks twice before tossing him to the floor like garbage.

Lorenzo seized Arthur and kicked him three meters across the room.

“Filthy bastards. Send them to an orphanage later.”

Arthur curled up on the ground in pain, sobbing, “Mom...”

The boys began crawling toward me on their hands and knees, inching forward with desperate cries.

But the onlookers only jeered. Some kicked the children like sport. One man yanked Arthur up by the hair.

“Well, well—green eyes? Guess the bastard’s foreign. Bet the father’s some French guy.”

Then he scoffed and hurled Arthur away like he was nothing.

Lorenzo wrinkled his nose in disgust and delivered another brutal kick to Arthur’s small body, sending him flying.