My Wedding Dress Triggered the Fall of a Giant

Veronica's POV

As the whispers around us grew louder, the secretary’s smug expression only deepened.

“You hear that?” she sneered. “A nobody like you, with no background and no skills, thinking you can be the bride? Keep dreaming, sweetheart.”

Yet, their mockery didn’t faze me one bit. If anything, I found it kind of funny.

“Gillian Snee, right?” I said calmly. “Let me repeat myself one last time. Give me back my wedding dress.”

But instead of hearing me out, she simply sneered, “Bring back your wedding dress, my ass!”

She even cursed at me a few more times, then apparently decided that wasn’t enough. She rolled up her sleeves and stormed toward me.

“What now?” I shot back. “The Cobbs' lapdog can’t argue with words, so you go straight to violence?”

Without anymore words, she swung at my face several times, but never even touched the hem of my dress. That only made her more furious.

“You little bitch! Just stand there again and see what happens!” she barked. “You want me to call Mr. Cobb right now?!”

Despite her threat, I still didn’t react or retaliate. I just stood there in silence.

It wasn’t because I was scared.

It was because before I left work, my supervisor had pulled me aside and reminded me, “Every word you say and every move you make reflects on the organization. So stay calm, no matter what happens.”

Also, I don’t fight. But if I ever do strike back, I’m not aiming for warnings. I aim to end it.

Yet, Gillian seemed to think my silence meant I’d backed down. So she balled her fist and lunged again.

But just then, a deep voice thundered from the entrance.

“Enough!”

A tall man with broad shoulders and commanding presence strode in, surrounded by bodyguards.

“Gillian!” he snapped. “You’re my personal secretary. What are you doing throwing punches in public?”

So this was him—Hayden Cobb, the groom.

I gave him a quick once-over. My mom hadn’t lied. He looked like a man pulled straight from a magazine—close to 6'3", dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, handsome, and refined.

If I had to point out a flaw, it’d be the way he looked at me—cold, detached, like I wasn’t even human.

“Mr. Cobb,” I said, stepping forward with a calm smile. “Since we’re finally meeting, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Veronica Riley from—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupted, waving a hand impatiently. “I’m not the least bit interested in who you are.”

For a second, I thought I’d misheard him.

I was supposed to be his bride, the Cobbs' future daughter-in-law.

And here he was, publicly humiliating me before the wedding even started.

“Mr. Cobb,” I said, keeping my composure, “I understand this arrangement came from our parents, and we’ve never met before. But at the very least, you could let me finish a sentence. Isn’t that basic courtesy?”

His expression immediately darkened by what I'd said.

“Courtesy?” he scoffed. “Veronica, do me a favor. Go find a mirror, take a good look at yourself, and ask if someone like you deserves me.”

He then shot me a contemptuous glance and let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Let me make one thing crystal clear,” he continued. “If my dad hadn’t forced me to marry you, I wouldn’t have spared you a second look. You bring absolutely nothing to the table.”

Then he turned to the room, his voice rising.

“And don’t get any ideas. Just because there’s a wedding today doesn’t mean you’re gonna be part of our family. I’m never going to touch you. Not in this lifetime.”

Instead of drowning in embarrassment or loneliness, I simply let out a small laugh and shrugged.

“Well, since you’ve made your stance so clear, I won’t try to push this any further,” I said casually.

Then my tone dropped, cooler and sharper. “But that said…”