Meeting His Family Cost Me More Than I Expected

Future mother-in-law?

Who gave her the confidence to call herself that?

I had no interest in arguing with her. All I wanted was to leave. I stepped forward, reaching for my bag.

But to my shock, Ivan’s mother suddenly threw herself to the floor with a loud thud.

“Help! She’s killing me! My son’s fiancée is beating up her mother-in-law!”

Ivan rushed over and, without warning—he slapped me across the face.

“Ashley! How dare you lay a hand on my mother?!”

A sharp, burning pain exploded on my cheek. I stood there in complete shock.

We’d been together for three years. He’d always been gentle, and attentive. I never imagined he could hit me.

His mother sat up, clutching her thigh as she cried out dramatically, stirring the crowd.

“She hasn't even married in and she’s already attacking her elders! What will she do after she joins our family?!”

Whispers turned into open judgment from the surrounding relatives.

“She’s outrageous!”

“What kind of woman is this, Ivan?”

“No respect for her elders—her upbringing must be terrible!”

A few of Ivan’s cousins pushed through the crowd and grabbed my arms.

“She doesn’t know the rules? Then we’ll teach her.”

“Yeah, we'll put her in her place!”

I struggled with all my might. “Let go of me! Who gave you the right to grab me?!”

But I was outnumbered and couldn’t break free.

They yanked off my coat and forced a rough, musty mourning robe over me.

The coarse sackcloth scratched my skin, sending stings of pain across my body.

“Ivan!” I shouted, eyes brimming with tears. “Are you really going to stand there and let them do this to me?!”

With one last shred of hope, I looked at him.

But his face remained cold and indifferent.

“Ashley,” he said flatly, “these are the rules in our Lopez family. If you want to marry me, you need to follow them.”

Then he raised his leg—and kicked the back of my knees.

A sharp cry escaped me as I collapsed, knees slamming hard against the cold ground.

Agonizing pain shot through my legs. Cold sweat broke across my forehead.

Gritting my teeth, I glared at him. “You’ll regret this.”

Ivan crouched down beside me, his voice was low and condescending in my ear.

“Regret? No, Ashley—you’re the one who’ll regret not listening.”

“Keeping vigil for my grandfather is your chance to show you're one of us. I’ve been so good to you. You should be grateful.”

“Twenty thousand dollars is nothing for you—your company makes that in a day. Why ruin our relationship over such a small amount?”

My voice trembled as I stared at him. “Ivan, we’re done. I’m breaking up with you.”

He froze for a second, then scoffed. “Ashley, I didn’t know you were into this kind of drama now.”

“Fine. Kneel here. You can get up when you come to your senses.”

Nearby, his mother triumphantly fiddled with my phone.

“Ivan, do you know her passcode? Let’s see how much money she’s got in her apps.”

“She’s got all these bank cards too—tell me her birthday and other details. I might be able to guess her password.”

I tried to stand, but a couple of the men shoved my shoulders down again.

“Stay still! Kneel properly!”

“Trying to escape? Not happening!”

The pain surged through my knees again, dull and suffocating. I shut my eyes. The last sliver of hope inside me crumbled into nothing.

I didn’t know how long I knelt—my knees had gone numb, the pain replaced by a hollow ache that crept up my spine.

When I shifted slightly to ease the stiffness, Ivan’s mother struck my shoulder with a wooden rod.

Crack!

“You’re not here to rest! Show some respect while keeping vigil!”

The stick landed right on the bone, the jolt of pain making me gasp.

I bit down hard, forcing myself to stay still. To endure.

Eventually, the night dragged on and most of the relatives began to leave. The hall quieted.

I let my body slump a little, pretending to doze off, keeping my eyelids half-lowered while I quietly scanned my surroundings.

From the side room, I heard Ivan and his mother speaking in hushed voices.

They tried to keep it low—but I heard everything.