The Billionaire’s Wife Cried at the Wedding

Unexpectedly, Victor used this as another way to flaunt himself and soak up praise.

The moment they noticed me, the classmates who had been flattering him just seconds ago immediately frowned, their faces twisted with disdain.

One of Victor’s lackeys spotted the car behind me and jeered loudly, “Ethan, after all these years, you’re still driving some cheap domestic garbage truck?”

The others burst into laughter.

“That’s hilarious! I’d rather die than drive that kind of junk!”

“But wait, why are there so many zeros on his license plate? That kind of plate isn’t something money can buy!”

“Obviously fake! How could a clunker like that have such a plate?”

“No wonder he dared to show up. He’s just pretending, flashing a fake license plate! Absolutely ridiculous!”

Ignoring their mockery, I stayed calm. “The license plate is genuine.”

“And this isn’t a garbage truck. It’s the Red Flag National Gift.”

The moment I finished, Victor strode up and punched me in the face.

“Of course, the plate is real—because this car belongs to my wife!” he roared.

“I’ve suspected she was keeping a pretty boy, but I never imagined it’d be you, a worthless loser!”

“You shameless gigolo! How dare you drive my wife’s car to my wedding just to provoke me, her rightful husband?”

His words left everyone stunned.

“Victor, this is really your wife’s car?” someone asked, eyes wide.

“How could it be fake?” Victor declared proudly.

“My wife used to pick me up in this car. I thought the plate was so unique, I even snapped photos!”

He quickly pulled out his phone, showing picture after picture of himself and Vivienne.

There were intimate shots of the two of them sitting cheek to cheek inside, and the others of them cuddling atop the hood. The photos captured every detail of the interior, with the license plate visible and unmistakable.

It looked identical to my car. Seeing this, the classmates all sighed in awe.

“It really is Victor’s wife’s car! No wonder it has such a rare plate!”

“So Ethan must really be a kept man!”

Victor’s face darkened with rage, his voice like venom. “No wonder you never post on WhatsApp anymore. You’re just hiding the fact that you’re a gigolo.”

The others turned on me instantly.

“Who would’ve thought Ethan, who looked so decent on the surface, is actually living off a woman?”

“Right? Back in high school, I even thought he was cool and once wrote him a love letter. Now I just feel sick!”

“Some people act aloof, but deep down, they’re rotten. The moment they see a rich woman, they throw away their dignity and crawl.”

“He even drove his sugar mama’s car right in front of her real husband! He’s clearly jealous of Victor and deliberately trying to ruin the wedding!”

Even our old homeroom teacher shot me a disgusted look.

“Ethan, when you go out, don’t you dare say you were my student. I never taught someone so morally bankrupt.”

The commotion quickly drew a crowd. Strangers gathered, pointing, criticizing, some even pulling out phones to film—a few spat on me with contempt.

Silently, I shrugged off my coat and tossed it into a trash bin. Then I glared straight at Victor.

“You hit me in public without even bothering to learn the truth. Do you think you can act this lawlessly?”

Victor sneered arrogantly.

“So what if I hit you? So what if I’m lawless?”