Cynthia mechanically pressed her lips against the man in front of her. It wasn't so much a kiss as it was merely a brief touch of her lips to his cool ones. Her eyes flickered past Albert Wilson to the crowd behind him, taking in the expressions on their faces.
The sudden dullness in the man's eyes and the exasperation etched on Grace and Doreen Lancaster's faces ignited a spark of defiance within her. Vincent, do you even know what pain feels like?
When you abandoned me in that heavy snowfall to announce your marriage to her, did you ever think about the pain you caused me?
If I could make you all suffer, then what's the cost of sacrificing my own life?
A sharp pain suddenly shot through her lips, jolting her back to reality. She glared at the man before her, only to be met with a look of shock and a wave of panic. Just moments ago, she had been pretending for show, and now she realized this man was not just another handsome face. His dark eyes held a sharp intensity that sent a chill creeping up from her toes. Oh my God! What kind of man have I gotten involved with?
From his earlier words, she had thought he was just another wealthy playboy, obsessed with chasing women and swapping them out like outfits. But suddenly, he seemed to have transformed into someone entirely different, leaving her utterly disoriented.
In her daze, his lips pried her mouth open with fierce determination, his breath rushing in like a storm, filling her nose and mouth. One moment he was tender and gentle, like a spring breeze; the next, he was wild and feral, like a beast. Panic swelled within her.
He spun her around so her back was to the Lancaster family, yet his lips never left hers. In that moment, a torrent of emotions swirled in her eyes, and only he could read them.
As he kissed her, he took note of her trembling anger and couldn't help but let out a cold chuckle in his mind. Did she really think she could fool anyone with such pathetic skills? Today, Albert Wilson was going to give her a lesson in how to kiss!
Cynthia struggled to break free, but his grip was terrifyingly strong. She was helplessly trapped in his embrace as he ravaged her. With every attempt to escape, he remained unfazed, his power overwhelming. To outsiders, they appeared locked in an intimate embrace.
Everyone else was utterly stunned by the explosive scene before them, except for Maureen Lancaster, the eldest daughter of the Lancaster family. She lowered her gaze and cleared her throat softly a few times, trying to remind the two lost in their own world.
Using Maureen Lancaster's subtle intervention as a stepping stone, Albert Wilson naturally released Cynthia. Although she was both shocked and angry, she managed to put on a calm façade in front of everyone. No matter how embarrassed she felt, she couldn't let them see—especially not him.
William S. Lancaster's face was already flushed with anger. His daughter had actively seduced a man and performed such a scandalous display in front of family. If this got out, where could he hide his face?
"She's clearly the daughter of a seductress. It's no surprise she's so skilled at enticing men!" Doreen Lancaster crossed her arms, standing there with a biting sarcasm, her teeth clenched. If Albert Wilson hadn't been present, she would have rushed over to tear Cynthia apart.
But even though he had kissed her, so what? With her looks, he probably only joked about choosing her. Doreen Lancaster had beauty and a perfect figure, and she was the most favored in the Lancaster family. If he didn't pick her, he must be blind.
With that thought, she flipped her beautiful waves of hair and stood elegantly, waiting for the final verdict.
"Get back to your room!" Doreen's sharp words ignited another fire within the already furious William S. Lancaster, who trembled with rage and shouted at Cynthia, whose lips were still swollen from the kiss.
After being released by Albert Wilson, Cynthia stood there calmly watching everything unfold, her hands clenched at her sides. Upon hearing William's roar, she expressionlessly turned her gaze away and headed upstairs.
As she passed by Albert, she instinctively raised a hand to wipe her mouth, her expression betraying a hint of disgust, causing Albert to narrow his eyes again.
He sensuously traced his long finger over his own lips, admitting to himself that her taste was indeed delightful. Fresh like a green apple, sweet and tangy, combined with her little stubbornness, it stirred an irresistible impulse within him.
Suppressing his emotions, Albert turned back to William, who was fuming, and smiled brightly. "Mr. Lancaster, it's getting late. I should be heading out. We can discuss the wedding details another day!"
As he spoke, his eyes casually scanned Vincent, who was still sitting there. Vincent's face was a stormy shade of gray, his gaze toward Albert filled with a mix of anger and heartbreak, as if something precious had been taken from him.
It seemed that this brother-in-law of his was deeply invested in her. Albert felt unexpectedly pleased; he hadn't anticipated that his decision would strike two birds with one stone.
"Wait, but the Vice President…"
William S. Lancaster hesitated, unable to voice his embarrassment. He had only suggested discussing wedding details another day, but which daughter had Albert Wilson chosen? Was it really the plain-looking Cynthia?
Albert Wilson, however, was polite and cordial.
"What's the matter? Is there something else?"
"Uh..."
William S. Lancaster struggled to form his words. Albert smiled warmly and said, "I must admit, my future wife's flavor... is indeed delightful!"
With that, he turned to leave, but his eyes held a coldness beneath the surface.
As he prepared to walk away, Doreen Lancaster could no longer contain herself. She rushed forward, grabbing his arm in disbelief. "What kind of joke is this? You really intend to take that… that woman?"
Albert Wilson glanced down at her hand gripping his, a polite yet distant smile on his lips.
"I'm sorry, Miss Doreen, did I ever say that person was you?"
Doreen was taken aback by the sudden chill in his gaze, her tongue stumbling over her words. "But… but you just said at the party that I was stunning…"
His smile grew even more seductive as he gently lifted her hand and pressed a light kiss to it.
"Yes, Miss Doreen Lancaster, you are indeed stunning. But…"
He gently lowered her hand.
"...you are not the one I want!"
The smile vanished from his face as he turned on his heel and walked away without a backward glance.
"Ah—!"
Doreen Lancaster stood frozen for three seconds before unleashing a loud, piercing scream. Then she charged up the stairs in a frenzy.
Second Floor.
Cynthia was in her room changing clothes, her hands trembling uncontrollably as she scrubbed her lips, which were still swollen from that man's relentless kiss.
In front of the large dressing mirror, she stared at the reflection of a girl in a white outfit stained with blood. Inside, she repeatedly reassured herself: *Cynthia, don't panic!*
The man who claimed he wanted to marry her was surely out of his mind. With her plain appearance and lack of favor, she couldn't possibly be the type to attract a man like him, so don't panic, Cynthia. Perhaps when she stepped out of this house, everything would return to normal.
She comforted herself, then raised her hands to peel off the blood-stained clothes. She let Doreen bang on her door outside while she leisurely searched her wardrobe for fresh, clean outfits.
Her selection was painfully limited, and most of the few clothes she owned were a deep shade of violet. As her watery eyes swept over the garments, a profound pain welled up within her.
Remembering Grace Lancaster's elegant violet outfit, she gritted her teeth and pulled out the only white hoodie she had. Ever since that incident, she had developed a strong aversion to that color.
Vincent had always preferred wearing shades of violet, leading Grace Lancaster to believe he liked that color. In her domineering way, Grace had even altered her own wardrobe to match, despite it not being a color that suited her proud demeanor.
But what Grace didn't know was that it was her affection for that color that had caught the man's eye. Back then, she had been obsessed with violet, even tying a satin ribbon of the same color around her wrist and calling herself Violet.
She had whimsically insisted he wear that color, declaring him her "Violet Prince," the one who rescued her from a lonely childhood and now brought her love. She believed she would wait for him to lead her into a life of happiness.
Yet the Violet Prince she had longed for had suddenly become someone else's husband—her brother-in-law.
The increasingly violent banging at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Two years had passed, and the pain in her heart had nearly faded away, leaving only numbness.
Dressed and carrying her clothes, she opened the door, only for Doreen Lancaster to slap her hard across the face. Cynthia didn't retaliate; she merely lifted her eyes and glared at her fiercely, saying,
"Doreen, stop hitting me. My husband will be upset!"
Doreen was nearly driven to madness, her once-beautiful face twisting into a grotesque snarl.
"Cynthia, you have no shame!"
After saying that, Doreen tried to lunge at Cynthia again, but a strong pair of hands grabbed her flailing arms from behind. Vincent's calm voice came through.
"Doreen, enough!"
Doreen Lancaster shook off his grip, her frustration shifting entirely onto Grace Lancaster.
"Grace Lancaster, control your husband! What does it mean for him to defend another woman?"
After her hysterical outburst, she stomped down the stairs in her high heels, leaving Grace to look at Cynthia with a flash of embarrassment and resentment.
"Thanks, brother-in-law!"
Cynthia shot a sarcastic glance at the two women in their matching shades of violet before turning on her heel and leaving without looking back.