My Fiancee Risked a Fatal Allergy for His First Love

Chapter 4

"Are you blind? She's practically sweating guilt, how can you not see it?"

I locked eyes with him, my words dripping venom.

Vincent's gaze turned glacial, anger simmering beneath his icy composure. "I don't understand your obsession with her. Even if she did it, she only exposed the truth, no lies were spun."

A hollow laugh escaped me.

Memories flashed him cradling my broken body, sobbing uncontrollably before slaughtering his way through the enemy's stronghold, painting the walls red until none were left standing.

Blood-soaked and unsteady, he'd stumbled to my hospital bed, cradling my hand like fragile glass. "Don't fear," he'd whispered. "This secret dies with them."

And now? Now he dared call this "the truth "?

A twisted smile split my face.

I snatched up a splintered wooden stake and lunged. The jagged wood stabbed into Eva's shoulder. Blood bloomed across her dress like a grotesque flower, seeping into the faint love bites peeking from her collar.

She collapsed, screeching his name like a wounded animal. "Vincent! Vincent!"

Looming over her, I hissed, "Know your place."

He wrenched me forward, slamming my hand onto the table with bone-crushing force.

His eyes burned with a fury I hadn't seen since my stepmother's reign of terror when she'd locked me away, flaying my skin daily with salt-laced whips.

Back then, the inferno in his gaze could've reduced my tormentors to ashes.

Now? Those flames were for me.

Cool as ice, he unsheathed a dagger and impaled my hand to the wood. The blade punched through my palm with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed in an arc.

White-hot pain lanced up my arm, setting every nerve alight. I bit down until my gums bled, refusing him the satisfaction of my scream.

"Correct," he said, voice like frostbite. "Know your place unless you want to relive your mother's tragedy."

My vision tinted crimson as I bared my teeth. Mother's fate flashed before me—her artist's hands ruined forever after one defiant slap against our stepmother's sneer.

When Vincent first learned of it, he'd cradled my fingers like sacred relics, vowing, "Paint the stars if you wish. I'll be your shield."

Now my devotion had sharpened into the knife he twisted in my back.

"Vincent!" I snarled. "Walk away now, or I'll bury you."

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Cold sweat poured down my back as I trembled uncontrollably, my words hissing between clenched teeth.

Vincent's gaze turned glacial, brushing off my threat with cold indifference. "The wedding is postponed indefinitely. We'll discuss marriage only after you learn to coexist peacefully with Eva."

He didn't spare me another glance, gathering up the bleeding Eva in his arms, his elegant fingers already reddening with allergic reaction.

So this was love, apparently not even allergies could stop it.

He swept out of the studio without a backward look.

Gritting my teeth, I wrenched the dagger from my hand and bolted for the hospital.

Against all odds, the doctors managed to save my hand.

On what should've been our wedding day, I emerged from the dressing room in my wedding gown, only for Vincent to cut me off, his brow furrowed.

"Didn't I say the wedding was postponed? Cancel it. Now." His voice cut like a whip. "Apologize to Eva first. Then we ,ll talk about marriage."

As he reached for me, I met him with a glacial stare. "You 're mistaken, Vincent. You're not the groom."

His frown deepened, but before he could speak, I seized his wrist in a vice grip and smirked. "Don't worry. I've prepared a proper surprise for you."

His eyes followed my gaze and the moment he saw it, his pupils shrank to pinpricks.