Chapter 3 3. The Groom

One man in black pushed Beverley out of the car. No more screams came out of her mouth. No more crying or pleading of any kind. She realized it was a futile struggle.

She stood up, staring at the big house in front of her. No, it was no ordinary house. One would more appropriately call it a mansion. The mansion looked very grand and elegant. A bone-white color dominated the exterior.

Was it the Oliver family's residence? Beverley did not know. Although it was a place filled with luxury, she did not feel attracted. She could not afford to spend her life there with someone she did not like at all.

The night wind blew her hair. Her heart was pounding. Her feelings became erratic. Was this still real? Perhaps it was just a dream when she accidentally slept at the cafe table.

"Miss, please come in."

The voice instantly broke Beverley's reverie. She let out a long breath. "This was not a dream." She finally stepped into the large mansion. Two men in black followed her from behind.

The entrance door was already open. An unfamiliar atmosphere immediately greeted Beverley. Many servants were standing at attention. There were dozens of them. They wore the same uniform, black and white. They had neatly styled hair.

One servant, who had the oldest face, came over to her. He was probably in his late forties. The man smiled slightly and said, "Miss Holmes, welcome to the Oliver family mansion."

Beverley sighed again. "Thank you. Can I see Michael Oliver?"

"I'm sorry, the great lord does not live in this mansion. Please come with me. I'll escort you to your room," said the man who was the butler there.

"He doesn't live here? Then what about Brent? Brent Oliver?" asked Beverley with some urgency. She wanted to at least meet him.

"He's not here either."

Beverley became confused. Did a house of this size not have anyone living in it? She looked in all directions. This magnificent building was indeed deserted. There were no other sounds of people talking or doing activities.

"Miss, you must be confused. Come with me. I can't explain much to you for now," the butler said again.

Beverley finally nodded weakly. She glanced at the line of servants. After which, she stepped up to follow the butler. Perhaps that man was the only one she could rely on.

She climbed the stairs covered in white marble. The view upstairs was no less good. Spacious rooms and closed doors entered her sight.

The butler opened one of the whitewashed doors. It displayed a large room before Beverley's eyes. A large bed with a soft mattress was prepared for her.

"Miss, you can spend the night here. Tomorrow, there will be people picking you up to go to the event."

The event in question was her wedding. Beverley could only smile wryly. "Okay, thank you," she said as she stepped into the room. "Um, if I may know what your name is?"

"Just call me Edward," the man replied.

Beverley nodded vaguely. "You can leave me now. I want to be alone," Beverley said as she stepped over to the glass window that led to the backyard.

"Okay. Good night..." Edward closed the door.

Beverley looked at the clock on the wall. It was late, but she wasn't sleepy yet. In this condition, who could still fall asleep? She didn't have her bag with her. She didn't have her cell phone with her. What could she do like this?

Beverley lay down on the bed. She spent this long night with her mind racing. It was only when it was almost morning that her eyes began to feel heavy. She fell asleep for a while.

Three hours later, Beverley's bedroom door opened. Her eyes blinked. She saw several women coming in with suitcases and a wedding dress for her. Suddenly, she got up.

"Good morning, Miss Holmes. Did you sleep well last night?" asked a fat man who suddenly entered the room. The man was wearing a fur scarf. He looked very feminine.

Beverley wanted to curse. Was the man's eye blind? She looked exhausted, with dark circles in her eyes. Why was he still questioning her? She had only slept for three hours, and that was simply not enough.

"Okay. Wake up, sweetheart. You need to get ready now. I'll do your special day's makeup myself," the man said cheerfully.

Special day? Beverley shook her head. It wasn't a special day. It was a cursed day!

Despite feeling lazy and reluctant, she still forced herself to go to the bathroom. She deliberately slowed down her bathing. Only when someone knocked on the bathroom door did she come out.

"Good. Sit here, dear. I'm going to start applying your makeup now," the man said as he prepared all his makeup supplies.

Beverley could only comply. She'd better speed this up so she can meet Brent Oliver soon. If she could meet him before the wedding started, perhaps she could negotiate.

A mysterious smile finally appeared on her lips. That's right. The person she had to discuss with was Brent. They had never met before. So Brent must not like her. Right? A glimmer of hope finally appeared in her heart.

She closed her eyes and let the fat man do her makeup. She didn't care about other things. Whatever, the most important thing was that she could meet Brent soon!

After quite a tedious and exhausting time, the makeup was finally finished. For a few moments, Beverley stared at her face in the mirror. Was it really her?

Gosh, she was so beautiful. Perhaps even more beautiful than some Hollywood stars!

The fat man cheered happily at the result. He was one of the most famous makeup artists in Los Angeles. He has made up hundreds, or even thousands, of people. However, when he saw this result, he was still very surprised. Beverley was absolutely gorgeous!

"Wow! You look so pretty, honey."

"Don't call me honey!" hissed Beverley in annoyance.

"Alright. Come on, take off your bathrobe. You must wear this wedding dress."

Beverley felt a little uncomfortable. The stocky man seemed to understand. He stepped out and let his assistants put the wedding dress on Beverley.

It took a long time to put on the luxurious white dress. There were so many layers of fabric and diamonds. It was all very cumbersome. Beverley vowed never to wear anything like that again.

After everything was done, several men dressed in black came into the room. They were the ones who forcibly brought her to this house yesterday. "The time is almost here, Miss. Let's leave now."

Beverley snorted softly. She felt uncomfortable in the dress. Several servants quickly helped her lift the hem of her dress so that she could step more comfortably.

A black car was waiting at the door of the mansion. Beverley was able to get into the car after a few troublesome moments. After that, the car immediately sped away to take her to the wedding hall.

Beverley's feelings became erratic. She wrung her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. Was this how brides usually felt?

She swallowed to wet her dry throat. Ah, who would have guessed? She, who was still fine working at the café yesterday morning, twisted into a bride the next day.

Beverley's eyes lit up when the car stopped in front of the tall building. Many people and reporters were already waiting outside the entrance of the building. They were carrying notebooks, and some were carrying cameras.

Oh my goodness! What is it again this time?

"Miss, there is a lot of media here. Please behave properly. Remember, your father's life is in your hands," whispered one of the black-clad men in the car.

Beverley swallowed after hearing the threat. She looked down and got out of the car. One man in black helped her lift the hem of her dress. Then she stepped toward the entrance of the building. She was becoming increasingly nervous.

When she arrived at the entrance, the reporters there immediately threw a lot of questions at her blindly. They were all asking questions about the gay rumors surrounding Brent Oliver.

Of course, Beverley knew nothing about it. She didn't even know what Brent looked like. She just looked down and avoided everyone's eyes. Fortunately, the bodyguards soon helped her through the chaos.

After making her way through the reporters, Beverley immediately exclaimed angrily, "Even if he wants to use this wedding to clear the rumors, he doesn't need to let the reporters come!"

"Miss, the more people who know, the better." That answer made Beverley snort.

Along the way, she tried to look left and right, hoping to find some clue about Brent Oliver. Unfortunately, until she arrived in front of the large, tightly closed door, she found nothing of importance. This made her feel frustrated.

My God, was she really going to just get married to that unknown man?

"My dear daughter, you look so beautiful today," complimented the woman, who was none other than Emma. She had been waiting for her there all along. As usual, Emma's appearance was very striking.

Beverley just snorted coldly. She didn't bother talking to the woman. There was no need to waste her emotions on that cruel stepmother.

She was secretly feeling sad. James didn't come because of his poor health. Did her father know she was getting married?

"The time has come. The bride can enter now," said someone at the door.

Beverley's heart beat faster. Emma was about to lead her in, but she quickly moved away. "I don't want to be accompanied by anyone," she said coldly.

Emma gave Beverley an unhappy look. However, there was nothing she could do. Instead of making a mess, it was better for her to let Beverley do it herself.

The closed-door began to open. Beverley's eyes immediately caught sight of the man standing far ahead, on the wedding altar, in front of dozens of guests. The man wearing a black tuxedo suit was staring right at her, into her eyes.

That man...

Gloomy images of the past instantly invaded Beverley's head. Her heart seemed to stop beating. Her face turned pale.

No way!

Beverley shook her head with a slightly blank look. Her feet reflexively stepped back. No! She couldn't possibly marry that bastard!