Ten minutes before the engagement party was set to begin, I was in the lounge straightening my fiancé’s tie when the door suddenly swung open.

Zhou Mingche stood at the threshold of light and shadow, the shoulders of his suit still damp from the night rain. In his hand, he clutched my mother’s second will.

The man who had pinned me against a car door three years ago, kissing me until I trembled, had returned to destroy my wedding with his own two hands.

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