After My Fiancé Wed Her I Married His Rival

The day before the wedding with my childhood betrothed, I hid in the bridal suite, hoping to surprise him. Instead, I was the one taken aback by the news of his marriage.

"Three days ago, I went to the courthouse and got a marriage license with Birdie Garcia," Eli boasted.

His friends praised his audacity, "Eli, you rogue, making decisions on your own. Why even bother with the wedding? Does Arabella know about this?"

Eli adjusted his watch with an air of disdain. "Even if she does, what difference does it make? She practically begged for this wedding."

"I've made an arrangement with Birdie. Arabella can have a title in public, but at home, she'll be our maid, catering to both of us," he said smugly. "After all, one can't be too greedy."

Outside the room, my hands shook slightly as I held the glass of sparkling water. So this was why Eli insisted on having the wedding before sorting out the paperwork.

I let out a bitter laugh, ignoring their vile conversation, and dialed another number: "Sincere, I don't want to marry him."

...

“Arabella, what are you doing here!” As the door swung open, Eli's face flashed surprise before settling into irritation. However, as soon as I removed my headphones, his annoyance returned with full force.

“Didn't I say we shouldn’t meet the day before the wedding? Why are you so clueless?”

Eli casually shrugged off his jacket, tossing it on the floor. The cigarette in his hand wasn't even put out as he sat next to me, blowing smoke directly in my face.

Watching me cough uncontrollably from the smoke, Eli's lips curled into a pleased grin. “You're far more amusing like this.”

Amidst the painful coughing, I felt a wave of helplessness. The man I loved for years was unraveling right before my eyes; so, this is what it feels like.

"Go make me a cup of coffee," Eli said, reclining on the bed, pointing dismissively towards the kitchen.

For the first time, I refused to obey. Instead, I yanked open the curtains, letting a blast of cool air into the room. “I’m not your maid. If you want something, make it yourself.”

Eli’s face darkened, but his frown faded when he spotted the glass of sparkling water I'd set aside earlier, a smirk returning to his lips. “What’s with the attitude? Playing hard to get…?”

The sound of shattering glass interrupted his taunt, the dark liquid staining his designer suit. Eli's eyes narrowed in fury. “Arabella, have I spoiled you too much lately? Do you think marrying me means you can do whatever you want?”

“Do you believe that even if we get married, I can still divorce you?”

Looking at Eli's disdainful sneer, I responded calmly, “I believe you.”

My unfamiliar tone caught Eli off guard. I’d never defied him like this before. In the past, at the mere mention of marriage as a threat, I’d always bow my head and apologize first, no