The Husband Switcheroo

After getting into the car, I carefully examined the bouquet in my hands. I finally breathed a sigh of relief when I was sure there was nothing unusual about it.

In my past life, the golden bouquet from Lester was indeed extravagant. However, it almost got me killed.

He never intended to get married.

That bouquet had been laced with poisonous perfume. He even had me delivered to a hotel suite, trying to ruin my reputation and calling off the engagement with a clear excuse.

Now that I'd been reborn, I wondered whether Abbie could escape the same fate.

…

As soon as I stepped out of the wedding car, I felt an arm tighten around my waist.

A man scooped me up and strode into the wedding suite.

Loud cheers and teasing erupted outside the door.

"Bravo! Let us see what she looks like!"

Through the thin veil, I could barely make out that the man was wearing a white suit. With a lewd grin, he reached out to lift my veil.

I was quick to grab his hand and lifted my veil even faster.

"You're not Mr. Jerome," I mentioned firmly, my sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd.

Everyone's expression immediately changed.

The man before me didn't care at all. He was trying to force himself on me in front of everyone.

I smashed the bouquet into his face. Then, I drew the dagger I had hidden and slashed across his cheek without hesitation.

The man screamed as the blood splattered.

"What a show."

A burst of applause rang out.

A man in a white suit walked in from behind the door, his arm around a woman. He sat on the couch in front of me and raised an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

"You're pretty ruthless."

Looking up indifferently, I met his gaze and replied, "The same goes for you."

He deliberately wore his shirt loose to show off his abs, exuding a rebellious, defiant attitude. From the way he looked, I knew he was my husband for this life, Jerome.

In my past life, I'd seen him a few times at Hanson family banquets. He'd always come off as a playboy who couldn't stay away from women.

I just didn't expect the wedding itself to be this absurd.

Jerome waved a hand, and the entire room fell silent.

"Mr. Jerome, you're not seriously marrying this woman, are you?"

I looked up at the voice. My gaze landed on the petite woman leaning against him.

Jerome didn't answer. Instead, he squeezed her waist, making her let out a coquettish squeal. The two of them flirted as if I didn't exist.

I sneered and fixed my gaze on Jerome, telling him my real intention. "How about a deal, Jerome?"

"As if." He lifted his eyes lazily, clearly uninterested in my words.

However, I couldn't care less. In a world of rich elites like them, people like me were just tools for breeding heirs. Whether it was marrying Lester or Jerome, I refused to live my life being controlled by others.

Ignoring his disdain, I reached out and traced a line from his head down to the middle of his pants. "Let's make a deal with this."

No one dared to laugh aloud.

Jerome finally dropped his defiant act. His expression turned serious as he motioned for everyone to leave.

…

Once the door closed, he stubbed out his cigarette, stepped close, and grabbed my chin fiercely. "Eliana Gibson, you better think twice before you speak."