Seeing that Grandma Wynn had completely washed her hands of Isabella's situation, Isabella's mother-in-law stormed off in anger. She dragged her son with one hand and clutched the unpaid 3 yuan in the other. She quickly got into their garishly painted Santana 2000, which had been blocking the doorway moments ago. Taking great care to avoid even grazing the Rourke family's convoy, she sped off, seething.
No one in their right mind would dare damage a Rourke family vehicle. A scratch on the paint could cost more than they'd earn in a lifetime.
Watching Elara completely ruin her own engagement, Isabella was overwhelmed with bitter envy. If it weren't for the crowd, she would've already tried to steal that stunning man standing at Elara's side.
Inside the house, Mrs. Rourke was finalizing the arrangements with Grandma Wynn. Then she turned toward Elara's mother Melissa.
"Madame Wynn, is there anything else you'd like to add?" she asked courteously.
Before Elara's mother Melissa could utter a word, Grandma Wynn interjected coldly, "What could she possibly have to say? In this family, I make the decisions!"
Melissa stood silently in a corner, as if she were invisible. No one had cared to ask her thoughts from start to finish.
Elara glanced at her mother, noticing the tears in her eyes. She was clearly in pain, yet unable to speak up. Elara's heart clenched.
In this household, she and her mother had always been the least valued.
Their futures were decided for them—by everyone but themselves.
Even now, her mother had no say in her own daughter's wedding.
Damien's eyes shifted to Elara. When he noticed the pale shade of her face, a flicker of sympathy passed through him.
Elara quickly steadied her breath, reining in her emotions. Then she turned to him and asked gently, "Da… Damien, is this your first time visiting the village? Want me to show you around?"
Damien straightened slightly. "Sure."
"Yes, Damien, go ahead and take a walk with Elara," Mrs. Rourke chimed in. "We can handle everything else here."
Elara nodded and politely excused herself.
The two walked out together, with people silently trailing behind them, as always.
"You've got something to tell me?" Damien's lips curved into a subtle smirk, his narrow eyes lifting slightly. "Go ahead and say it here."
Elara glanced at the small crowd following closely behind and whispered, "Come to my room."
To her, the courtyard felt too crowded for a private talk.
But in Damien's ears, her words carried a different implication.
The corners of his mouth twitched faintly. "Alright."
Elara led him into her small room.
As soon as he stepped inside, Damien's eyes widened slightly.
Though the space was tiny and old, it was meticulously clean.
A faded square table sat in the center, covered by a blue-and-white checkered cloth. A sheet of clear glass rested on top, holding down a photo frame. Inside was a smiling girl hugging a cheap plush doll, radiating joy.
Damien stared at the photo longer than he meant to, something about the image holding his attention.
Elara brought him a glass of water. When she saw him studying the picture, she hurried over and turned the frame facedown with a quick swipe, embarrassed.
"You don't have to give me any of the Rourke family's money," she muttered. "Even if you do, I won't spend a single cent of it."
Damien chuckled, voice low and charming. "My family's money doesn't come that easily. It'll only be transferred to your account after the wedding and once you've had the baby. And once it's in your account, what you do with it is entirely your business."
Relief swept over Elara. She didn't want her grandmother getting a dime of that money. If it went to her, it would be gone for good.
Damien turned to examine a modest bookshelf against the wall. On it stood her graduation photo and certificate.
In the picture, she wore her bachelor's cap and gown, smiling brightly under the sun.
He reached out without thinking.
But Elara snatched it back and cradled it in her arms, frowning. "Don't touch that!"
Damien looked down at her with mild surprise. This was the fourth emotion he'd seen on her face—besides blankness, tears, and a smile.
Now she was angry, eyebrows drawn together, nose scrunched up, her expression vivid and unfiltered. Like a little wildcat.
Strangely… she looked cute when she was mad.
No—more than cute. She was fascinating.
For the first time, he realized that a woman could be so expressive. Selene, for example, only knew how to smile politely. There was never any depth behind it.
This woman… was different.
"That photo means a lot to you?" he asked lightly. "Everyone gets graduation photos, right? Or is it the photographer that's special?"
The moment Damien's words fell, Elara's expression dimmed, a flicker of melancholy appearing in her eyes.
Of course, that photo was significant, Archer had taken it.
But those days were long gone. There was no turning back.
Damien's eyes lowered slightly, catching the sorrow in Elara's gaze. A strange emotion stirred faintly within him, unexpected and unfamiliar.
While Mrs. Rourke and Grandma Wynn swiftly finalized the wedding arrangements, neither side was interested in elaborate fanfare. The wedding would be discreet, just a quiet meal and a simple ceremony in a secluded church.
Grandma Wynn was unconcerned about appearances; all she cared about was Elara marrying into the Rourke family quickly, bearing the child, and securing the hefty dowry.
So, with both families in agreement, preparations for the wedding commenced at once.
…..
The Rourke family's wealth was evident in the thoroughness of the arrangements. Despite the rush, everything was in perfect order.
Elara took a deep breath and sat quietly in the church's bridal lounge, adorned in an elegant wedding gown.
The spacious room echoed with silence, she was alone.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The woman staring back was unfamiliar. Even with flawless makeup and jewelry worth millions, she felt like a stranger to herself.
Today she would become Damien Rourke's wife, severing ties with her past.
Yet her chest felt tight, uneasy—as if something was about to happen.
In another lounge, Damien adjusted his tie with quiet composure.
He looked so striking today that even the male stylist was momentarily captivated.
Just then, Assistant Jack rushed in with a quick report. "President, Miss Selene has returned to China. She's en route to the church. Looks like she's determined."
Damien's lips curled into a faint sneer. "So she finally came back? After vanishing without warning and trying to treat me like some gift recipient? Selene always believed once something was hers, it couldn't be taken back."
He scoffed lightly. Once, he thought she was different. Now he knew better.
"Should we stop her?" Jack asked hesitantly. "She wasn't invited."
"No need. Let her come. It's time some things were settled." Straightening his suit, he added, "Also, give the order. Let that person show up."
"Yes, sir." Jack bowed and exited swiftly.
Outside the church, Selene stood staring at the extravagant decorations, jealousy burning in her eyes.
This should've been hers.
She had only intended for Elara to be a temporary stand-in, not to have her completely steal the spotlight—and the man.
Damien was supposed to be hers. No man was allowed to dump her—she did the dumping.
Since approaching Damien was impossible without his consent, she shifted her focus.
If she couldn't stop the wedding, she could make Elara leave on her own.
With her mind made up, she turned sharply and headed toward the bridal lounge.
A knock echoed.
When Elara turned around, she froze in disbelief.
It was Selene Clark.
At nearly 178 centimeters, Selene's tall frame closed the distance in just a few strides. Before Elara could even utter a word, Selene's hand struck her across the face with a sharp slap.
"Smack!" The sound rang through the room.
Elara stumbled, nearly hitting the table. She barely caught herself by grabbing the back of a chair, instinctively shielding her stomach.
In the mirror, she saw Selene's furious reflection, and a cold shiver ran through her.
Why was she here?
Before she could even speak, Selene jabbed a finger at her and exploded.
"Elara Wynn! How could you leave Archer Lang and marry Damien? Have you no shame? He's my boyfriend! You stole my man and now you're marrying him!"
Her shrill voice pierced the air, making Elara wince.
But Elara finally regained her composure. She turned toward Selene, voice trembling but steady.
"Selene, you came just in time. I was going to ask you—why was it Damien in the Room at the Hotel, not Archer? Where was Archer?"
Selene faltered, clearly caught off guard. After a pause, she snapped, "How would I know why you went into my boyfriend's room? I gave you the card for another room. You're the one who sneakily took my card and went to Damien! How could I have given you Damien's room card on purpose?"
She huffed indignantly. "Elara, think about all I've done for you over the years! And this is how you repay me?"