My Fiancée, Another’s Bride

“Exactly! Look at that junk car he drove here. How can he even show his face at this wedding?”

“True. No matter the wealth or background, Daniel is ten leagues ahead of him.”

The classmates’ jeers kept coming, but I pretended not to hear.

What does money matter?

In the face of absolute power, it all turns to dust.

“Since Isabella is so confident in her family’s empire, let’s just wait and see.”

“As for money… you’d better save it for the prison commissary.”

With that, I stood, ready to leave.

“Ethan, leaving already?”

Just as I turned, Daniel blocked my path.

I paused, slowly glancing back.

“What? Having second thoughts now?”

He arched a brow and sneered.

“Since you’re already here, why not have a glass of wedding wine before you go?”

I clenched my fists, answering each word with deliberate calm.

“Sorry. Division rules—no drinking outside of approved leave.”

Daniel, of course, wouldn’t let it go.

“I don’t care about your damn rules!”

“If you don’t drink today, that means you’re disrespecting me!”

Years of service had kept me far removed from spoiled heirs like him, and I had no patience for his antics. His arrogance only stoked the anger rising inside me.

“And what if I refuse?”

Daniel smirked, his eyes glinting with malice.

“I heard you drove here, Ethan. What do you think will happen if I smash that car of yours? Still planning on driving home?”

My fists tightened, and I glared at him coldly.

“Daniel, I’m warning you—don’t you dare. That’s the Presidential State Car.”

“Presidential, national—whatever. It’s still just a domestic car.”

He ignored my words completely and quickly rallied the security team.

I counted—seventeen or eighteen men, each with badges reading Reed Corporation.

Once assembled, Daniel lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke as he pointed toward the entrance.

“Today’s my wedding with Isabella. No car worth less than a hundred grand should be here!”

“Smash that piece of junk to pieces!”

At his command, the guards swarmed toward the vehicle.

Watching the scene unfold, I asked calmly,

“Isabella, you’re really going to let your husband destroy my car?”

She scoffed dismissively.

“It’s just a cheap car. If it makes him happy, he can smash ten of them and I’ll still cover the cost.”

After ten minutes or so, the head guard hurried back, looking uneasy.

“Mr. Carter, there’s a problem.”

Daniel took a long drag and exhaled a smoke ring.

“What could be such a big deal?”

The guard held up his bruised, reddened hand.

“The men have been hammering it nonstop, but the car’s barely got a scratch. Just some chipped paint. Should we… keep going?”

Daniel cursed, furious.

“Useless fools! You can’t even handle something this simple?”

Grabbing the hammer from the guard, he marched to the parking lot himself.

One strike. Two strikes. Ten strikes.

He swung again and again, but the car’s body remained untouched, and the shock left his hands numb.

“What the hell is this thing? My arms are dead from hitting it!”

I curled my lips into a faint smile and followed him outside.