Chapter 2

The headline "Morgan Heir Ditches Wedding" trended at the top in no time.

Netizens learned about my ordeal and flooded the internet with outrage against Carsten and Eleanor.

"How can the Morgans be so rich and powerful yet humiliate someone by ditching a wedding?"

"What about the fiancée's feelings?"

"That woman crashing the wedding has no shame."

"Scumbag and homewrecker deserve each other."

Gordon Morgan, Carsten's grandfather, was furious when he heard.

He told me, "Amelia, I'll make this right for you."

With red eyes, I replied gracefully, "It's okay, Gordon. The Morgan family comes first."

Without hesitation, Gordon transferred ownership of two villas to me.

The next day, to my surprise, Carsten brought Eleanor to the Morgan estate.

As soon as they stepped inside, an ashtray flew toward them.

Carsten instinctively shielded Eleanor, and I, without thinking, stepped in front of him.

A sharp pain shot through my arm, followed by a trickle of liquid.

The servants gasped and rushed over. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Carsten's conflicted expression as he looked at me.

My face paled, and I pleaded with Gordon, "Please, let's talk this out calmly."

In the end, Carsten bandaged my wound.

His voice was hoarse as he said, "Don't do that again."

I gave a bitter smile. "You're my fiancé. Who else would I protect?"

I rolled up my sleeve to make it easier for him to wrap the gauze.

But it revealed the old scars on my arm.

They were yellowed, jagged, and horrific.

In high school, Eleanor had others hold me down while she burned me with a curling iron.

Those scars were just the tip of the iceberg.

Carsten flinched as if struck, his pupils contracting.

A trace of pity flickered in his eyes. "Amelia, I-"

Suddenly, a woman's scream echoed from downstairs.

Carsten's expression hardened.

He let go of me and strode away.

I called out softly, "Carsten..."

He paused for a moment.

Then he walked on without looking back.

I watched his figure disappear, my expression cooling.

Before dinner, Gordon emerged from his study with Carsten supporting him.

They seemed to have reached an agreement.

My phone pinged with a notification, a thirty-million-dollar transfer from the Morgan family.

My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively checked the trending topics.

Eleanor sauntered over, arms crossed, looking down at me smugly.

She said, "Back in school, no one had your back when you were bullied. And now, you still have to swallow your pride."

Leaning close to my ear, she sneered coldly, "Poor little Amelia."

As her words landed, a new trending topic popped up. "Amelia Is Homewrecker In Carsten and Eleanor's Relationship."