Dumped at the Altar by My 'Amnesiac' Fiancé

Arthur’s small body crashed into the champagne tower. In an instant, the pyramid of glass flutes came tumbling down. Shards of crystal rained around him. He stood frozen for a moment, then slowly collapsed, blood spreading across his face.

A scream tore from my throat. “Arthur!”

I fought to crawl toward him, desperate to hold him in my arms.

Arthur struggled to lift his head, eyes searching for mine—then his little arms dropped, and he lay still on the ground.

Lorenzo stomped on my back, grinding his heel into my waist with contempt.

“All this over a bastard child? If you’re too shameless to learn your lesson, I’ll make sure you do today.”

He turned to Vanessa and ordered coldly, “Strip her.”

“She wants to seduce men? Let everyone see just what kind of filth she is.”

He yanked me up by the hair and forced me to stand, leaving me in only my undergarments, exposed to the crowd.

He pinched the flesh of my waist, his voice mocking. “Disgusting. Just look at this body. And you claim to be some royal princess? Even I’m repulsed.”

Vanessa dug her nails into my skin, pinching hard with every word. “We’re doing this for your own good, Danna. Maybe now you’ll learn a little shame. Maybe you’ll stop acting so high and mighty.”

My arms, my chest, were covered in purple bruises. My face felt like it was on fire, swollen and throbbing with pain.

Through my barely open eyes, I could still see Arthur lying motionless. I didn’t care about my own humiliation, my own wounds—I only had one thought: I had to save my son.

“Lorenzo,” I begged, “Arthur is really Prince Charles’s son. Please, you have to save him!”

“If something happens to him, the whole of New York will pay the price!”

Instead of softening, Lorenzo’s fury exploded. He grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into my body.

“You just won’t give up, will you? Still using that bastard child to drag His Highness down? You filthy liar! Today I’m going to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

The chair shattered against my leg with a deafening crack. Pain lanced through me, and my vision blurred.

I nearly passed out, so I bit my tongue hard, forcing myself to stay awake.

Arthur was unconscious while Aaron was sobbing, calling for me.

I dropped to my knees in front of Lorenzo, slamming my forehead into the floor over and over.

“It’s all my fault,” I cried. “I should never have wanted you. I was lowly, foolish. Please, please just save my child!”

He kicked me aside with disgust.

“Now you’re sorry? Now you feel ashamed? You think begging like a dog will fix this?”

I shook my head frantically. “I won’t ever do it again. Please, for the sake of our past friendship, save him!”

Lorenzo gave a cold snort and slowly pulled out his phone, as if finally about to call for help.

But Vanessa snatched it away.

“Loren, why save a bastard?” she said sweetly.

“If the prince hears someone is pretending to be his son—and you helped, he would think you’re involved in the scam. He’ll never forgive you.”

Lorenzo’s eyes grew dark. He turned to her, then pulled her into his arms. “Baby, you’re right. We can’t risk that kind of trouble.”

Blood was still trickling from Arthur’s forehead, pooling beneath him. My heart clenched with fear.

I turned and grabbed Vanessa’s skirt.

“Vanessa, no matter what you think of me, the child is innocent. I’m begging you, please save him. I’ll kneel, I’ll do anything—just please.”

Vanessa grinned wickedly and gripped my chin. “Now you know how to beg?”

“Where’s that arrogant princess of New York now? Look at you, groveling like a stray dog. Pathetic.”

I knew she wouldn't stop until she'd thoroughly humiliated me. Charles and the mayor had gone to inspect the event site—who knew when they’d return? Every second wasted might cost Arthur his life.

Desperation consumed me.

I fell flat to the ground, wagged my head like a dog, and barked twice.

“You're right, Mrs. Nichols,” I choked out through tears. “I’m nothing but a dog. A shameless, filthy bitch. Please... I’m begging you. Let me go.”

I didn’t know whether it was the title "Mrs. Nichols" that pleased her, or the pitiful sight of me on the floor that finally satisfied her—but Vanessa let out a delighted, mocking laugh behind her manicured fingers.

“Oh my, the once-proud little princess of New York is now my pet? I almost don’t deserve such honor.”

Lorenzo laughed with approval as well. “Vanessa, you were always born noble and beautiful. It was fate that you ended up among the lower class. But soon, you'll be the most powerful lady in the country.”

Finally appeased, Vanessa casually picked up a broken chair leg. A long, rusty nail stuck out from the end—sharp and jagged.

“Danna,” she said with malicious glee, “cut up that pretty face of yours right now, and I’ll call an ambulance for your son.”

She tossed the chair leg at my feet.

I stared at the thick iron nail, nearly ten centimeters long. Then I looked up at the triumphant smiles on their faces.

Someone in the crowd, unable to stomach it any longer, muttered a protest.

“Mr. Nichols... that’s enough. If the Prince arrives and sees this kind of scene, it won’t look good for anyone.”

Vanessa scoffed. “Mr. Schumann, you don’t know what Danna is really like. She's a filthy flirt, throwing herself at any man with money. I’m doing this for her own good—so she doesn’t embarrass all women with her scandals.”

Without warning, she lunged and pressed the iron nail to my cheek. A sharp sting shot through me, followed by the white-hot agony of torn skin. Blood gushed out instantly, dripping down to the marble floor in steady beats.

Someone gasped audibly.

“That’s deep... her face is ruined.”

But Vanessa wasn’t done. Her expression twisted with cruelty as she yanked out the nail and raised it again to strike.

I shut my eyes in terror, screaming inside with despair.

“Charles... when will you come? Please, save our son...”

Suddenly, the double doors burst open with a loud bang.

A powerful voice boomed across the hall, silencing the crowd.

“His Royal Highness Prince Charles has arrived!”