I had zero interest in watching their little lovefest. I walked up, face blank：
“Take it off.”
Claude stepped in front of me, his voice a warning：“Olivia, don't make me turn on you.”
I laughed. The moment Claude threw away everything to cancel the wedding and spit in the Fox family's face, he'd already turned on me.
“Don't make me say it again. Take it off.”
“Or I'll strip your precious girl right here in front of everyone, and we can all admire her figure.”
Isabel knew I meant every word. She pursed her lips, reluctant but putting on her signature act of sweet understanding：
“Forget it, Claude. If Olivia wants it that badly, I'll just let her have it.”
I didn't take the bait：“Who knows if you'd sabotage this gown the second I look away. I'm watching you take it off.”
I didn't trust Isabel's character one bit.
Claude glared at me, raw hatred in his eyes, as if I'd dealt his beloved some unforgivable humiliation.
“Olivia!”
A victorious little smile curled across Isabel's lips. She took my arm and pulled me into the dressing room：
“Sure. Watch all you want.”
I said nothing. I watched Isabel tug the zipper down, her curves on full display, and then she spoke：
“Guess why Claude would rather be my lapdog than spare you a single glance.”
“After all, I'm the one who wrote him a thousand letters when he had cancer. His pillar of strength. His reason to keep fighting.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
Her smile only widened：
“You were by Claude's side for all those years.”
“After his mother died, you blocked the mistress from taking over, and you protected his position as heir.”
“So why couldn't you keep it up during the one time he needed you most? When he was dying of cancer?”
Her eyes gleamed with the reckless satisfaction of a winner：
“Why do you think Claude strung you along for nine years? It wasn't love. It was spite.”
“He hated you for saving him halfway and then giving up. He hated that your love wasn't strong enough.”
My whole body went numb.
Nine years. Nine years of everything I believed had been wrong.
Isabel circled behind me, her voice light, almost playful：“Drives you crazy, doesn't it? You're the one who wrote those letters. You're the one who tracked down the top surgeons when his own family gave up on him. But he thinks it was all me.”
I fixed my eyes on Isabel. She tilted her head, all innocence：
“You're not going to tell me I lied and stole credit for what you did, are you?”
She shook her head：“Claude came to that conclusion on his own. From the moment I fell into his arms, he decided it was me.”
“He said you were too dull and boring. You could never have come up with jokes that clever.”
“Only someone as vibrant and radiant as me could have healed him.”
All I felt in that moment was bitter, scalding irony.
No verification. No questions asked.
Claude had simply decided Isabel was the one who saved him.
Then, without warning, Isabel raised her hand and slapped herself across the face, hard, again and again, clawing at her own skin until over a dozen bloody welts streaked across her body, screaming the whole time：
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have touched your wedding gown, I'm filthy, I'm worthless, I deserve this!”
Claude shoved the door open. He saw Isabel with her hair wild, clothes torn, skin streaked with blood.
He raised his hand and slapped me across the face.
My head snapped sideways, my vision going white. I nearly collapsed.
“Olivia! I'm the one who insisted on canceling the wedding. If you have a problem, take it up with me!”
Isabel's words from moments ago echoed through my head, and I couldn't stop the thought from forming.
If he knew I was the one who'd been by his side all along, would he feel even a shred of guilt?
But the moment I opened my mouth, Claude cut me off：
“You insisted on going in there to watch her change. You knew there were no cameras in the dressing room. You wanted to get at her where no one could see. Well, you got what you wanted. Happy now?”
Claude pulled out his phone right in front of me and made a call：
“Announce it to the world, right now. I, Claude Gilbert, am marrying Isabel Cox. She will be my wife. And from this moment forward, anyone who dares lay a finger on her will answer to me.”
He turned to me, his gaze sharp with warning：“From now on, if you so much as breathe wrong in my wife's direction, I will bring the full weight of the Gilbert family down on you.”
He shrugged off his suit jacket, draped it around Isabel's shoulders, and walked out without looking back.
The store manager, summoned by a frantic employee, rushed over and apologized：
“I'm so sorry, Ms. Fox. I was off-site today and didn't communicate clearly with the staff. I'll sort out this misunderstanding between you and your fiancé right away.”
Her face was ashen, clearly convinced the gown incident had destroyed my wedding. She looked like she was already drafting her own professional obituary.
In her mind, this was the end. She was about to be blacklisted across the entire industry.
“That won't be necessary. He's not my fiancé.”
I wasn't going to make life difficult for someone just doing her job. My voice stayed flat, detached：
“Have the gown cleaned. I'll need it in three days.”
The manager froze：“But isn't the wedding canceled……”
“The wedding is still on. The groom's suit needs to be taken up one size. My new fiancé is about three inches taller.”
