"The audacity to trap our family into a sham marriage!"
"An ugly, vile virgin truly wishes to marry our son?
"That's a ridiculous expectation!"
"Tie her up!” "The mother and the son will deal with her."
Stacy Andrew's ears were filled with coarse grumbles as the servants' rough and powerful hands tightly bound and pushed her down in her white wedding dress.
"Ouch Ouch!" "Can't you be a little gentler?" Stacy exclaimed, gritting her teeth in pain and nearly twisting her face under her mask. She wondered how her true identity had been discovered. But she didn't have time to guess. The Smith family members had clearly lost their temper. They dragged her down the stairs, and her knees immediately made harsh contact with each stair. She was shoved out abruptly and fell to her knees on the ground. An authoritative and angry voice rose. A noblewoman with elegance and grace spoke.
"Speak! Are you Stacy from the Andrew
family, or Megan Andrew!"
Stacy Andrew and Megan Andrew.
Despite sharing the same surname, these two people are very different. Megan, the Andrew family's eldest daughter, was a well-known beauty in the capital, gentle and dignified, truly a noble lady. Stacy, on the other hand, was known as the ugliest woman in the capital, with an unsavory reputation and underhanded tactics, as well as a large scar on her right cheek that disfigured her. Megan was the bride who was supposed to marry into the Smith family on that particular day. When they crossed the door, they discovered that Stacy had been swapped! How could Mrs. Smith not be enraged? Stacy rubbed her knees and looked up. Her eyes shone as she innocently blinked over her mask.
"I... I am Megan Andrew..."
"Silence!" Catherine Smith scolded the woman for arguing in front of her, calling her greedy and vain. Your mother-in-law has already called to discuss the situation. You drugged your parents and sister to join the Smith family!
"You are extremely cunning and full of lies!"
Is this what Dorothy Mildred told the Smith family? Stacy's eyes hardened slightly, with a hint of cold creeping in. If Dorothy hadn't been forced to use her grandmother's illness, why would she have replaced Megan by marrying this disabled Young Master Smith, whom Megan despised so much? Dorothy had not only blamed her, but also claimed she was behind everything now that the truth could no longer be hidden. Stacy's fingers tightened beneath her sleeves. She wished to reveal the truth and leave freely, to rid herself of this wedding gown and allow the one who was supposed to marry to do so. But her reasoning held her back. If she couldn't stay with the Smiths, Dorothy would most likely use her grandmother, her only relative, as leverage. She couldn't let anything happen to her grandmother. Stacy, grinding her teeth, looked up to meet Catherine's gaze.
"Mrs. Smith and I have already undergone the ceremony, technically we are husband and wife now."
If you send me away, the disruption may make the Smith family a laughingstock."
"You... are you threatening us?"
Catherine appeared stunned, as if she couldn't believe that the frail girl in front of her had dropped her pretense and become a thorny issue.
"It's not a threat, but I know the Smith family prefers to be discreet, so we planned a quiet wedding. However, if the bride's identity becomes public, I believe the Smith family's reputation will suffer.
Stacy responded, laughing.
"So it's best to accept me. I will not cause any trouble. We will all live in harmony and contentment. "Isn't that wonderful?"
Catherine was left speechless by this audacious proposal. A round of applause echoed around them. The sound of a wheelchair caught their attention. Smith Taylor, the young master of the Smith family, appeared in front of her. Taylor was incredibly handsome, with a cold and noble demeanor. Even while sitting in a wheelchair, he exuded an icy chill that intimidated those around him. Stacy looked up at him, surprised by his appearance. Nobody had told her Taylor was so stunningly handsome, like a character straight out of a picture. Seeing this, she concluded that being Smith's wife was not such a bad deal after all. Taylor frowned at her admiring gaze, clearly disgusted.
"At your young age, you are as brazen as the city walls. "You have certainly given me a new perspective," he replied.
Stacy looked him up and down, then her eyes lit up with amusement. Her clear
eyes shone beneath her mask, full of mischief.
"Mr Smith, Mr Smith," she jokingly stated.
"My initial plan was to use my brazenness to persuade you to stay. However, you have found yourself in my hands by chance.
"Don't blame me if I take advantage of it."
"No," Taylor said, frowning.
"What do you mean by that?"
Stacy clapped once, got up, and examined him from head to toe. After a moment, she leaned down and rested her hand on his knee.
"What I mean," replied the lady, "is that, your so-called handicap... is just a farce, isn't it?"
This statement astounded everyone present. Taylor narrowed his eyes. Under his deep gaze was a cold and dangerous glint.
"Could you repeat that?" he inquired dangerously.
