Where Love and Hate Collided, Time Healed in Scars

The night before my wedding, my fiancé secretly brought his eight mistresses into our bed, pretending he was just doing push-ups. When I arrived, a fight broke out right away. I was about to slap the last girl when he quickly stepped in front of her and looked at me seriously.

He said, “You can slap the others, but not her.”

I couldn’t help but sneer and ask before kicking him down the stairs, “Why not?”

Three years ago, Robert Fuentes sent me to prison with his own hands. I was sentenced to three years.