Earlier in the day…
A petite-looking lady with thick makeup and wearing a knee-length blue denim shorts and a white hoodie rushed in, holding a knife. Everyone was taken aback by her attractiveness as well as her arrival.
She is the bride-to-be's sister and a rising star in the entertainment world; didn't she understands that her outlandish entrance would land her in hot water? Cameras were snapping as tears streamed from the girl who just raced in. She moved quickly and landed in front of the groom, and placed the blunt end of the knife on his neck.
Anyone who saw her today would think she was an assassin for a breakaway Mafia outfit. The opening flunged door provided the folks standing outside with a clear view of what was going on inside, and the funniest thing was that the stupid film was still playing.
"How dare you, Lucas? Do you have a wish to die?" The bride-to-be's sister shouted in a grunting voice. She spat on the floor, as if the guy whose life she was jeopardizing by risking his neck with a knife was repulsive.
"How could you cause harm to my older sister? How dare you post this heinous video?" She pointed at the screen in front of the court with her gaze still fixed on him.
"If my elder sister had caused you pain, couldn't you just settle it between you two instead of bringing our family's reputation into disrepute with your careless behavior? Do you think my father will approve of you?" as she stated this, she inclined her head to the side, most likely towards her father, whom Lucas was not scared of, and returned her frigid gaze to Lucas.
The unlucky bride who had been thrown across the room an hour before lifted her head from the floor that had torn the skin off her left cheek and scraped her foot. Her cracked lip let out a little chuckle, not because she enjoyed the deed her sister had just performed, but because she was smiling at her own idiocy.
This was the same woman who was found sharing a bed with the groom-to-be, who decided to ditch his bride on their wedding day. And now she is pretending to support her by slandering Lucas?
The bride's tearful eyes spilled forth their substance again as she shook her head and returned her sight to the floor. She was a complete moron. They had treated her as if she were a game and they had won while humiliating her.
"Mirella…" the bride, Elisabeta, heard her groom utter her sister's name.
Lucas sought to pull the knife away from Mirella but she strengthened her grasp on it. "Mirella, please stop acting like a child."
"I am acting like a child? You hurt my elder sister, and you dare call me childish?" Screamed Mirella. "Why did you compel her to return to Las Vegas if you didn't want to marry her? How could you offer her false hope?" Her face was covered with the word "anger", but if only one would read her mind.
People began to mumble and grumble; more than 98% backed Lucas not because he was their idol, but because, truly, what lady in her right mind would cheat on someone like Lucas? A city lady's hearthrob—a man with about three hundred billion dollars in his bank account despite his youth?
What was it she was seeking for that Lucas didn't have? Beauty, fame, cash? Even well-known prostitutes were eager to give up their profession if Lucas only cast his gaze in their direction.
The footage continued running like it was a seasonal movie with no conclusion; everyone in the city was seeing Elisabeta's disgrace in plain daylight. The fact that the lady on the video was the one who charmed the man who was backing the screen was too humorous; the all saint Elisabeta was straddling a man at a bar.
"Naomie didn't properly train her daughter; how could she have let her sole kid to become so rotten?" Someone from the crowd that rushed in earlier, spoke as he shook his head.
Mirella's lip curved into a little smile that vanished as swiftly as it formed. Her goal was accomplished. She raised her head to face the guy, who was sweating like a sacrificed cow; his eyes flashed a red card, as if warning her that if he suffered a single cut from the knife, he would not hesitate to murder her.
She moved her hands away from Lucas' neck, slide off her shoes and dashed over to her sister, who coiled herself on the floor. She put her hands on her sister's shoulders and was slapped in response.
Elisabeta growled as she watched her stepsister rolling on the floor as if she were a two-year-old child who had been robbed of her candies. Anyone who had been touched by Elisabeta knows how delicate her hands are.
"Ah, Elisa!" Mirella shouted and placed her right palm on her cheeks as if it were a hot coal. She gently crept back to Elisabeta, placing her hands on the floor and kissing the ground with her head.
"Elisa, please have compassion on me; I am not a nice sister, I let that jerk hurt you… I deserve this… ow" she screamed as she ripped her hand with the knife. "Elisa…" someone yanked Mirella up and drew her backwards before she could finish her remark. Her hand was severely swollen. People started murmuring to themselves and rolling their eyes at Elisabeta.
"She does not deserve Mirella's regard and consideration."
"Look at our beautiful Mirella; she even harmed herself for that harlot."
"I wish I had a sister as compassionate as Mirella. Elisabeta is unworthy of Mirella."
Despite the insults directed at her sister, Mirella attempted to free herself from the man who had held her. "please let me be; I need to approach Elisa. It is terrible for Lucas to hurt my lovely elder sister" Mirella sobbed, and two guys emerged from the throng to restrain her.
One of them ripped his shirt and used the ripped section to stop the blood from gushing from her hand.
"She does not deserve Mirella's empathy; she is a disgrace to Mr. Davis Garcia and the entire Garcia's household; action should be taken quickly," one of the men holding Mirella said, taunting Elisabeta with his gaze.
He shifted his focus to the young girl standing by his side, whose facial features resembled his, and gave her a stern look, as if telling her to keep away from Elisabeta to avoid getting polluted.
"Yes," several others agreed as their gazes were drawn to the man sitting at the front of the room, smoking his pipe as if nothing was wrong. They never anticipated Mr. Davis Garcia, Elisabeta's and Mirella's father, to be at the court; practically everyone was aware of the discriminatory conduct his first wife had performed. So why did he bother to be here in the first place?