My Fiancé Chose Her,So I Buried Them Both

The blast knocked me flat.

Brent grabbed Gloria's hand, aimed the water gun she was holding straight at my face, and water hammered up into my nose and ears, a vicious burning sting that set everything on fire at once.

I tried to get up, but the pressure blurred my vision completely.

I didn't even have the strength to lift my head. All I could do was lie there while the freezing jets slammed into me, every impact tearing through me under all that force.

Gloria watched me floundering and let out peal after peal of shrill laughter.

The moment she started laughing, Brent finally stopped.

He wrapped an arm around Gloria's waist, his voice going so soft it was nauseating.

"Happy now, Gloria?"

"When have I ever not been happy with what you do for me..."

Her coy little whine drew a smug laugh out of Brent,

but before the sound even faded,

Gloria's expression crumpled into wounded innocence.

"But..."

Brent's smile vanished instantly.

"But what?"

"Don't be scared, Gloria. I'm right here. Tell me what's wrong."

Gloria clasped the hand he had on her waist, stroking the back of it over and over, her voice sweet and helpless.

"My clothes got soaked because of her just now... I'm so cold..."

"That's nothing. I'll take you to the mall right now and buy you something new."

"No."

Gloria pointed at me, tugging Brent's arm with a little shake.

"I want the one she's wearing. Right now."

"Absolutely not!"

I cut straight through her wheedling.

This gown was the Pruitt family's heirloom, passed down with the leadership of the branch.

The family regarded it the same way they regarded the family's honor itself.

And this one, the one on my body, my late mother had altered stitch by stitch to fit me.

My father had preserved it with painstaking care for twenty years, waiting for the day I took over the Pruitt branch in Monterra City and finally put it on.

I clutched my shoulders and staggered to my feet,

shaking uncontrollably from the icy cold soaking through every layer.

Brent glanced in my direction, something shifting behind his eyes that I couldn't place.

After a few seconds of silence, he pulled Gloria into his arms and murmured,

"Gloria, that thing on her isn't anything special. The style went out of fashion ages ago."

"Besides, it's drenched in dirty water. You'll catch a chill if you put it on. Let's forget about that one. I'll take you to get a brand-new—"

"No!"

Gloria wrenched herself out of his arms,

and the tears came all at once.

"I want hers! You won't give it to me because you feel sorry for her, is that it? She matters more to you than I do, doesn't she?!"

"No, I just meant it's ugly and it's wet..."

"I think it's beautiful! I don't care if it's wet, I want it!"

Brent went rigid for two seconds.

"You do feel sorry for her..."

"I don't!"

He snapped it out without hesitation, then turned on his heel to face me, his voice dropping cold.

"Maya. You heard her. Gloria wants that dress. Take it off."

I looked around at the wall of men packed tight on every side,

then stared back at Brent, shaking, my voice cracking with disbelief.

"You want me to take off my clothes... here?"

"Take it off!"

The words had barely left my mouth before the crowd around me erupted.

They closed in, pressing tighter, eyes crawling over every line of my body.

"Strip! Young Mr. Delgado told you to strip. What are you standing there for?!"

"Young Mr. Delgado, thank you so much! If it weren't for you, when would we ever get the chance to see a body like that with nothing left to the imagination?"