Revenge of the Reborn Bride

I had never seen Asher look so tense—no, it was closer to fear.

"My uncle just got back from overseas. My whole future, my entire position… it's all in his hands now."

He gave a thin, mirthless smile.

"I know he likes you. He'd burn this whole family down for you.

"If I were to… send you to his bed… who knows how much that would be worth? Enough for me to live very, very comfortably."

My mind flashed to Alexander Vance—Asher's uncle—a man of imposing silence and a gaze that could cut glass, who had a habit of materializing whenever I was truly in trouble.

In my last life, blinded by my obsession with Asher, I'd completely overlooked someone who could have been my salvation.

Asher accelerated toward the hotel, hauling me through the grand lobby and into the packed reception before I could even catch my breath.

"Mom, I got her."

He pushed me forward. I staggered, almost losing my balance.

The woman before me, stout and severe in a silk dress, looked me over with pure contempt, her nostrils flaring.

"A wild girl unfit for society, not a trace of your sister's grace. Later, you will kneel and present my tea. That is our family's rule."

My brow furrowed. I tried to pull back, but Asher's grip on my arm was like a vise.

"Don't cause a scene. I can still call this whole thing off, right here. Your precious sister isn't here to save you now."

He thrust a scalding teacup into my hands, then shoved me down until my knees hit the polished floor.

His mother looked down her nose at me, a smirk playing on her lips.

"This is tradition. Anyone wishing to marry into our family must show their humility."

All eyes in the vicinity were on me. The room had fallen silent. To kneel was to submit; to refuse was to be branded irrational.

My palms burned against the hot porcelain. A sharp kick to the back of my calf made my legs shake.

Then, from the entrance of the banquet hall, a low, commanding male voice echoed.

"I set the rules in this family. I don't recall this being one of them."

His footsteps echoed on the marble, each one a hammer strike on the quiet.

The arrogance drained from Asher's face in an instant, replaced by a pallor of pure dread. He began to tremble, his voice a strangled whisper.

"U-Uncle…"