Groom From Hell: Reborn to Stop the Betrayal

Patrick was the one who had triggered Mom's stroke.

Back then, during my wedding to my ex-girlfriend, he had deliberately blasted their sex tapes for everyone to see before running off with her, leaving me to become the ultimate laughingstock.

The shock and rage had caused Mom to suffer a massive stroke that left her paralyzed.

To get her the best medical care, I had moved to Seabrook, where I crossed paths with Ariel, a neurosurgeon.

Over the course of Mom's treatment, we had slowly grown closer and fallen in love.

Arthur's words were a veiled threat. The Booker family controlled the best medical resources in the city. If I ruined the wedding today and humiliated them, Mom would be kicked out of their hospital immediately.

"Dad!"

Ariel cut him off before turning to me with a softened tone. "Caleb, please. For the sake of what I did for your mom, just stop making a scene today."

I clenched my fists. "Ariel, do you really not know that makeup artist? He just whispered in my ear that you were the one who told him to make me look like a clown to help him vent."

The moment the words left my mouth, the judgmental glares from the surrounding guests shifted into looks of pity.

Ariel's lips twitched, but she quickly forced a smile. "He's talking nonsense. He's just jealous that you're marrying up. I swear, if I actually have anything going on with him, or if I ever betray you, may I get hit by a car and die. We can get a divorce."

She raised her hand, taking the vow right in front of everyone.

I looked down and remained silent. Since this was what she wanted, I would give it to her.

…

Once I was in the banquet hall, I tapped my phone, broadcasting the dressing room's live security feed directly onto the massive LED screen.

On the screen, Ariel—who had claimed she was going to fix her makeup—was currently wrapped tightly in Patrick's arms. The skirt of her wedding dress was hitched up all the way to her waist.

"Patrick, I'm so sorry. I hate seeing you suffer like this," she murmured, her voice dripping with affection as she cupped his face. "Once the wedding is over, I promise I'll make it up to you."

Patrick's eyes were red, but his hand was already aggressively sliding inside her tube top. "Ariel, I can't wait anymore. I need you right now."

The next second, the two tangled together like octopuses, tearing at each other's lips as their clothes piled onto the floor.

The banquet hall fell dead silent.

Every single eye was glued to the big screen, watching the bride wrap herself around the makeup artist like a snake.

Arthur's glass crashed to the floor. While rushing toward the sound booth, he roared, "Turn it off! Turn the fucking thing off!"

But the footage kept playing.

Patrick flipped Ariel around, pressed her against the mirror, and drove into her from behind.

She threw her head back, letting out a sharp gasp of pure satisfaction.

Thanks to the hotel's surround-sound system, her voice echoed crisply into every single corner of the venue.

Isabel screamed and bolted toward the dressing room, with Arthur hot on her heels.

The moment the door was kicked open, Patrick was still buried deep inside Ariel's body.

An explosion of whispers erupted from the hallway.

"Oh my god! Isn't that guy the makeup artist from this morning?"

"Looks like Caleb was telling the truth after all…"

Isabel's face flushed bright red with sheer humiliation and rage. "Ariel Booker! Look at what you've done!"

Arthur rushed forward, violently pulling Patrick away. "It has to be you! You drugged my daughter, didn't you? Sweetheart, tell me that's what happened! We're calling the cops and throwing this piece of trash in prison!"

Terrified, Patrick's eyes welled with tears as he shrank back into Ariel's embrace.

"Enough!" Ariel barked, shielding Patrick fiercely.

She raised her head, her eyes locking onto mine through the crowd. There wasn't a single trace of panic or guilt in her gaze.

"Caleb, we need to talk."

Arthur and Isabel cleared everyone out of the room, leaving only the three of us inside.