You stand before the mirror, your face still pale from yesterday’s shock, yet your eyes… there’s a spark in them, bright and stubborn, refusing to die.

Just one day before your wedding, your fiancé told you—without shame—that he wouldn’t marry you. He loved his wealthy boss, and she was “better” than you. He tossed those words at you the way someone tosses an orange peel into a trash bin.

You let him walk away… but you didn’t let his words win.

When morning opened its light, you were the one opening the door to his family’s house—entering as the bride of his older brother. The quiet man who had watched you for years without stepping forward, the one who knew your worth, not your price.

He stood beside you in your new wedding room, moving closer with his broad shoulders and those steady eyes that fell over your heart like an unspoken vow.

He sat next to you, lifted your chin with his finger, and spoke in a low, heavy tone that felt like a promise:

“Tell me, my beautiful one… do you want me to end him? I will.”