He Faked Amnesia to Swap Me for His Step-Sister at the Altar

The night Ethan's proposal succeeded, Nina wrote through clenched teeth:

"Does true love really have to be bound by worldly conventions? I won't admit defeat!"

The day Clarissa tried on her wedding dress, Nina wrote through tears:

"That wedding dress looks even more beautiful when I wear it. He said he thinks so too."

Who "he" was needed no explanation.

The dull ache in Clarissa's chest twisted into something sharper—a blade churning through her insides until every organ screamed.

Nina had seeped into his life long ago. Only Clarissa had been kept in the dark.

Ridiculous. She'd been foolishly dreaming of a future with him this whole time.

The friend request popped up again.

[Clarissa, it's okay if you don't want to add me. I just wanted to tell you—the invitation's been delivered. Remember to come to the wedding!]

The piercing doorbell yanked her back to reality.

The delivery person handed her a thick envelope.

She tore it open. A sea of red burned her eyes.

It was the invitation Ethan had personally designed.

He'd handled everything wedding-related so she could focus on her research in peace.

But now, her name had been crudely crossed out. Nina's name scrawled in its place.

Even the couple's photo on the cover—Clarissa's half had been cut away, Nina's face pasted over it.

She did this on purpose.

Clarissa approved the friend request and typed furiously:

[What is this supposed to mean?]

Nina sent an emoji of a girl covering her mouth, giggling:

[Finally willing to accept?]

[You got the invitation? We were just short on time, so it had to be handled this way. Don't mind it, okay?]

The smugness oozed through the screen.

Clarissa ground her teeth:

[Don't worry. I'll be there to give you my blessings.]

Nina stared at her phone and laughed softly.

Ethan's long fingers toyed with the hair at her temple, his voice lazy. "What's so funny?"

She burrowed into his arms, her voice sweet and perky. "Nothing. I just think... the way you're treating Miss Henson, she's a little pitiful."

"She just got our wedding invitation. She's probably heartbroken right now."

After Clarissa left, Ethan had told Nina everything—how he'd been faking the amnesia all along.

For a woman he could easily control, there was no need to hide it.

As for Clarissa—

She'd stayed by his side for years. Even when he hit rock bottom, she never left.

How could she possibly bear to leave him now?

Her wounded expression outside the hospital room flashed through his mind. He deliberately ignored the faint pang in his chest and snorted.

"Don't meddle. When I've had my fun, I'll go back to her."

He'd just had a thoroughly satisfying round with Nina, still drenched in sweat.

He was in a great mood, humming as he headed for the bathroom.

He didn't notice the flash of resentment and malice in the woman's eyes behind him.

…

On the wedding day, Ethan spotted Clarissa in the guest seats at a single glance.

She actually came?

Irritation flared through him for no reason. His hand tugged his bow tie looser.

Nina reminded him softly, "The ceremony's about to start. What are you thinking about?"

Clarissa stared blankly at the stage.

She was sitting in the front family section—the seats closest to the altar.

Nina had arranged it specially. She wanted Clarissa to witness with her own eyes: their wedding had become his and Nina's.

Clarissa didn't understand why she'd come.

She'd woken up that morning and walked out as if possessed, her feet carrying her to this familiar address.

The wedding setup was exactly what Ethan had finalized with the planning company.

Nothing had changed. Even the flowers were still gardenias—her favorite.