His Eighth Bachelor Party

Niana clutched her stomach, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear.

“I… I just wanted to convince Sister Lunai to take her medicine,” she stammered, trembling as she looked at Gerry. “But she suddenly snapped… she tried to force the bowl on me… Gerry, I was so scared.”

With every word that left her lips, Gerry’s face darkened.

I gritted my teeth against the searing pain in my elbow and struggled to sit up.

“No, she—she slipped. She fell on her own—”

“Enough!”

His shout cut through the room like a whip.

He stormed over and grabbed my arm roughly, yanking me to my feet and dragging me toward the door.

“If you’re tired of living comfortably, then fine—go out and learn what suffering really is!”

Before I could react, he ripped my phone from my hand and shoved me out into the hallway.

I stumbled and slammed into the wall behind me, a sharp gasp escaping as pain shot through my back.

The hallway light cast a cold glow across his face. I could see every vein in his clenched hand bulging, trembling.

He was holding himself back.

He wanted to strangle me.

“Don’t pull something like this again,” he growled. “Get out. Stay out until you figure out how to behave.”

Then the door slammed in my face.

The hallway light flicked off, plunging me into darkness. My chest tightened and it was only then I realized my face was already wet with tears.

I was scared.

And I was heartbroken.

After what felt like forever, I numbly reached for the elevator button. By the time I made it to the entrance of the neighborhood, the cold wind bit at my skin—until suddenly, a pair of warm arms wrapped around me.

“I finally found you.”

The voice was gentle, breathless with worry. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

I looked up.

It was Darren Sigmund.

The sight of him broke the last thread of strength I’d been holding onto.

Tears spilled freely once more.

“Is the wedding ready?” I asked, my voice hoarse from crying.

He pulled me close, gently stroking my back.

“It’s all ready. We can register the marriage at dawn.”

I clutched his collar tightly.

“Then let’s go now. Let’s wait in front of the City Hall… I don’t want to stay here a second longer.”

“Alright,” he said softly.

As the car pulled away, the Stall Family mansion grew smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror—until it finally vanished.

I let out a slow breath.

I would never go back there.