His Eighth Bachelor Party

The nanny pushed the bowl of herbal medicine toward me again, as if she were ready to pry my mouth open and force it down my throat.

Above me, Niana looked on with amusement, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“Luna, just drink it already,” she said sweetly. “It’ll only make you unable to have children—nothing else. Do you really think Auntie and Gerry would ever hurt you? Why resist so much?”

Madam Stall snapped, clearly out of patience. “What are you waiting for? Drink it! I saved your life, didn’t I? You think I’d poison you?”

My nails dug into the flesh of my palm as I clenched my fists. I bit my lip, turning my face away with all the defiance I could muster.

“I won’t drink it,” I said quietly. “There’s another option, isn’t there? I choose the second one.”

A stunned silence fell over the room.

Even Madam Stall blinked, her tone now edged with suspicion. “Are you sure?”

Before I could answer, Gerry scoffed coldly. “She’s just being dramatic. You can’t take her seriously.”

Their gazes shifted to me—disdainful, dismissive. I scrambled to explain.

“I’m not lying… I really did choose the second option!”

But no one listened. No one cared.

Madam Stall rolled her eyes, waving her hand as if brushing off a nuisance. “She always listens to you. You deal with her. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my grandchild or family peace, I’m staying out of it.”

Gerry gave a slight nod. Without saying a word, he grabbed the bowl of herbal medicine and led me back to the bridal suite. His face was stern, still simmering with anger from what I’d said the day before.

“Drink the medicine,” he ordered. “Or leave. Your choice.”

He didn’t give me time to answer. He turned around, draped his arm around Niana and disappeared into the bedroom.

It had only been two days, but the bridal chamber no longer felt like the place I once knew.

The cool-toned décor had been replaced with warm, cozy furnishings. The walls were now adorned with recent photos of Gerry and Niana, smiling blissfully. Even the spare bedroom had been converted into a nursery.

Everything of mine—down to the slippers by the door—was gone.

This house, once mine, now had nothing to do with me.

I ignored the bowl of cold medicine on the table and curled up on the sofa for the night. Just as sleep began to take hold, muffled noises from the master bedroom jolted me awake.

Niana’s voice rang out, breathy and soft with pleasure. Through the thin walls, I heard the unmistakable sound of splashing water.

“Gerry… there… one more time… mm~”

My chest tightened. I shot up, stumbling into the bathroom, clutching the sink to steady myself.

Time passed in a blur until the noises finally ceased. When I emerged, the door to the master bedroom was open—and I was met with the sight of Niana sitting in the living room, her expression composed, her eyes glinting.

“Gerry’s exhausted,” she said lightly. “He’s asleep.”

Her tone was laced with smugness, every word a calculated stab. I didn’t respond.

When she saw I wasn’t taking the bait, she rose from the couch and walked over to the table, lifting the bowl of herbal medicine.

“To be honest, if I were you,” she said sweetly, “I would’ve drunk this back at the old house. I mean, someone like you… shouldn’t you be grateful just to enjoy the perks of being a rich wife for a little while longer?”

I let out a low, sarcastic laugh.

“That ‘rich wife’ position will be yours soon enough. No need to rush.”

She paused, her smile deepening, but her eyes gleamed with something darker.

“What are you saying, Luna? I’m just trying to help you accept reality—Ah!”

Her foot slipped.

In a heartbeat, she lost her balance and fell backward. I instinctively reached out to steady her, but we both tumbled to the ground.

Before I could even react, Gerry burst out of the bedroom—barefoot and frantic.

“Niana!”

He rushed past me, straight to her, scooping Niana into his arms like she was made of glass.

She had landed on top of me, but all he saw was her. His eyes were full of panic.

Of worry.

Of love.