Ivy Beaumont-the girl who was adopted by the Beaumont family to replace Aurora after Aurora went missing as a child, the one they all regarded as their fragile "angel"-let out a soft, strangled cry. A champagne flute had slipped from her fingers. Crimson blood, vibrant and jarring, began to well from a tiny nick on her finger, dripping onto her pristine white dress like a blooming hibiscus.
"Oh, no... I'm so sorry! Please, ignore me!" Ivy gasped, tears instantly spilling over her lashes as she cradled her bleeding finger.
She looked up at the stage, her voice trembling with practiced innocence. "I didn't mean to interrupt the ceremony. It's just... seeing my sister finally get the love she deserves... I was so overwhelmed with envy-I mean, happiness for her, that my hand just slipped. Please, Aurora, don't let my clumsiness ruin your perfect night!"
In an instant, Aurora's fairy tale shattered.
Collin, the golden heir who was supposed to make a lifelong vow to Aurora tonight, didn't even hesitate. He grabbed the microphone, his voice echoing frantically through the stunned garden.
"Cut the music! Suspend the ceremony!" Collin barked. "Someone get a doctor for Ivy, now!"
He dropped the mic. It hit the stage with a harsh, echoing thud that reverberated straight through Aurora's chest. He jumped off the softly lit stage, rushing toward Ivy. He didn't look back at Aurora. Not even once.
"Ivy!" Collin's voice was thick with a raw, desperate panic he had never once shown for his own fiancée. He gathered Ivy into his arms, his hands trembling as he cradled her injured finger as if it were made of the finest porcelain.
"Collin," Aurora said, fighting to keep her voice dangerously calm. "The ceremony isn't over. People are watching."
Aurora stood alone on the stage. The white silk of her custom gown suddenly felt heavy, suffocating-like a beautifully woven shroud. Her heart, which had been hammering with anticipation just moments ago, turned into a block of lead. Forcing her stiff, trembling legs to move, she descended the steps and stopped before the man who was supposed to be her future.
He finally looked up, but there was no love in his eyes. Only raw, jagged irritation. "Can't you wait, Aurora? Can't you see Ivy is bleeding?"
"It's a scratch, Collin," Aurora replied, her eyes tracking the minuscule cut.
Collin's jaw tightened, his gaze turning cruel. "A scratch? You have no idea how delicate she is. In fact," he sneered, his voice carrying enough for the front row to hear.
"If Ivy hadn't begged me to give you this night, do you honestly think I would have ever agreed to get engaged to you?"
The words struck Aurora like a physical blow, stealing the air from her lungs.
Before she could even process the humiliation, Ivy buried her face in Collin's chest. Her tears were perfectly timed, shimmering under the garden lights. "Collin, please, don't say that," Ivy whimpered, her voice trembling with practiced fragility. "You're going to upset my sister..."
That was the spark that set the forest on fire.
"Aurora! How can you be so aggressive?" A sharp voice cut through the air. Eleanor Beaumont, Aurora's mother and the matriarch of the family, rushed forward. She didn't look at her biological daughter; instead, she gripped Aurora's arm with bruising force. "Ivy gave up her happiness just to give you a decent marriage! You should be more considerate of her feelings instead of worrying about a stupid spotlight!"
Julian, the eldest Beaumont brother and the future head of their conglomerate, stepped forward, his face a mask of cold disappointment. "You're being utterly pathetic, Aurora. Ivy tried to help you get settled, and you reward her by embarrassing us all."
"You're becoming more vicious every day!" snapped Spencer, the second brother, standing over Ivy like a shield. "Ivy voluntarily gave up Collin for you, and this is how you treat her?"
Even Cole, the youngest, whom Aurora had once helped with his homework and cheered for at every game, glared at her with pure disdain. "Stay away from her, Aurora. You're disgusting."
In the distance, Donovan Beaumont, the patriarch, watched with a face of frozen granite. He didn't say a word, and his silence was the loudest condemnation of all.
As the accusations swirled around her like a suffocating fog, something inside Aurora quietly, irrevocably snapped.
She looked at them-her mother, her brothers, her father. The desperate, aching hope she had harbored since returning to this family ten years ago withered and turned to ash. Not one of them defended her. Not one of them cared that her fiancé had just publicly admitted their engagement was a sham. They only saw Ivy, the pitiable princess. And in Ivy's eyes, past the veil of fake tears, Aurora saw it clearly: a flicker of triumphant, ugly provocation.
They all thought Aurora was a helpless, pathetic charity case.
They had completely forgotten why the Foley family had agreed to this marriage in the first place.
It wasn't Ivy's begging. It was the ironclad trust left behind by Aurora's late grandfather. According to his will, the moment Aurora turned twenty-three, thirty percent of the voting shares in Beaumont Enterprises unlocked exclusively in her name. Collin needed those shares to secure his takeover of the Foley Group.
For five years, Aurora had played the quiet, obedient daughter, enduring their coldness just to see if a single person in this family cared about her.
Now, the last shred of delusion was gone.
A soft, clear laugh escaped Aurora's lips. It cut cleanly through her family's scolding.
Slowly, deliberately, she began to clap.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The rhythmic, metallic sound silenced the entire garden.
Aurora stopped. She reached up, pulled the three-carat engagement ring off her finger, and tossed it casually onto the grass near Collin's boots.
"Thank you, Collin," Aurora said, her green eyes flashing with a lethal, icy clarity. "Thank you for letting me see what a pathetic, spineless coward you truly are before I made the mistake of signing the marriage license."
She turned her gaze to her biological family, her lips curving into a chilling smile.
"And to the Beaumonts... keep your precious adopted daughter," Aurora announced, her voice ringing across the silent garden. "Because from this second on, none of you will ever get a single vote of my thirty percent shares."
She let her gaze sweep over their suddenly pale faces, her voice dropping to a deadly, promising whisper.
"Would you enjoy the gasps of surprise when someone goes bankrupt? I think that would be hilarious."