Seeing Foster Sister's Secret Tattoo, I Flipped the Wedding Table

The day before the engagement, my in-laws' adopted daughter came by to try on her bridesmaid gown. I teased her with a smile: "Your silly little brother is already getting engaged, and you, his older sister, still haven't picked out someone to love!" She undid her clothes with brisk ease, laughing without a care. "I'm free as a bird now. I can sleep with whoever I want—I'm a lot happier than you, about to walk into the cage of marriage." "I turned thirty-five this year, and the old man finally stopped pushing me to take the civil service exam. Look, I've had all my favorite things to eat tattooed on my body!" She turned to show me the tattoos covering her back—ripe red cherries, plump chili peppers... But my gaze froze at her waist, where there was a tattoo of a golden staff, exactly like the one my husband, Ken Henson, had... ... Seeing that I had suddenly gone quiet, Beth turned around, puzzled. Following my gaze, she caught sight of the tattoo on her lower back and burst out laughing. "What, did I scare our virtuous little wife-and-mother-to-be?" She tossed her hair, as unconcerned as if she were chatting about the weather. "I've been abroad these past few years—people are open-minded over there, it's just an ordinary decoration!" "And I happen to have a mole right here on my waist, so put together, isn't it super distinctive!" Looking into her open, untroubled eyes, my doubts eased a little. True enough—everyone knew that Ken and Beth were always at each other's throats, couldn't stand the sight of one another, and squabbled the moment they met. More than once he'd complained openly that this adopted sister of his was loose in her ways and a disgrace to his family! "What are you two talking about?" Ken's voice came from behind me, and a pair of hands wrapped around my waist. He kissed my forehead the way he always did, his gaze sliding over Beth, his face instantly showing undisguised distaste: "What are you doing here?" Beth rolled her eyes, stepped forward and pushed him away, then affectionately linked her arm through mine: "I'm here to have my best friend's back, so certain people won't get to bully our Cece down the road!" She lifted her chin at Ken. "Isn't that right, my dear little brother!" Ken gave a cold snort. "Spare me. Just looking at you annoys me!" Watching the two of them clash like fire and water, I finally let out a full breath. It seemed I'd been overthinking it—just a coincidence! The sales assistant came to call me over to try on the wedding dress. Just as I was about to message Ken to come give his opinion, I realized my phone was gone. I used the sales assistant's phone to call myself, but what came through was a faint sound of panting. I froze for a moment, then instinctively touched my ear. It turned out my bone-conduction earphones were still on, and the call had connected automatically. I was about to speak when Ken's voice, carrying a trace of anger, slipped into my ear first: "Who told you to come? Didn't we agree you'd stay away?" Beth giggled coquettishly, taunting: "What? Afraid she'll find out you try on wedding dresses by day and try me out by night?" My feet, carrying me toward the door, froze in place, unable to believe what I was hearing. Beth's voice was full of resentment and jealousy, her teeth clenched: "Ken Henson, I've been with you for over ten years! Who does Cecilia Cox think she is? Nothing but a mistress leaning on the Cox family's fortune to muscle in between us!" Someone walked past the studio carrying a big lamp, the light shining straight into my eyes, making me dizzy. The sounds in my ear went on—sticky, wet, unbearable to hear. I bit down hard on my lower lip, until the taste of rust filled my mouth. Slowly, I hung up, and used the front desk computer to send an email to the other side of the ocean: "Big brother, Ken cheated on me. I don't want to get married anymore!"

I was standing at the door of the lounge, still trying to work out how much kicking it in would cost me, when the carved door clicked open. When Ken saw me standing there, he hurriedly turned and pulled it shut, panic on his face he hadn't had time to hide. "Cece? You're back already?" My gaze drifted, almost by accident, over the gap in the door as it was swinging closed behind him. Beth stood with her back to the door, fixing her hair. The zipper of her bridesmaid gown was pulled open, baring her snow-white back. More jarring still was the tattoo at her waist, ringed with a fresh red mark, as if someone had sucked hard at the skin. I forced up a faint smile and kept my tone flat. "I left my phone inside. What's wrong with you? You look awful." He stared hard at my face, and after a few seconds the alarm drained from it, replaced by his usual gentle smile. "It's nothing. Beth and I had a couple of words, and she got me all worked up, that's all!" He stepped closer and took my hand. "There's no rush for the phone. I brought you a surprise—let's go pick it up at the front desk first!" His so-called surprise was a globally limited-edition perfume, its amber glass catching the light in an alluring way. He held it up to me like some prized treasure and gently pressed the pump. "Do you like it? It's your favorite—" His words caught on the cool, heavy top notes of gardenia. He knew perfectly well that I was severely allergic to gardenia—smell it too long and I'd break out in rashes and struggle to breathe. A flicker of awkwardness crossed his eyes, and he slapped his forehead in frustration. "I'm so sorry, Cece. I was in such a hurry to place your order that I grabbed the wrong one..." Behind him, Beth came sashaying over in her high heels, snatched the perfume away, and scolded Ken. "Do you even know how to shop? You forgot Cece's allergic to gardenia? As punishment you're buying ten bottles next time! And I'm confiscating this one!" She winked at me, playing the good best friend sticking up for me. It suddenly came back to me that Beth's favorite scent was exactly this gardenia perfume. Several times when I'd been close to her, her perfume set off my allergy until my eyes and nose streamed. Every time she apologized sincerely, said she'd forgotten and would be careful next time, but the next time, the gardenia on her was just as strong and sharp as ever. So it turned out it wasn't that she forgot. It was that she'd never taken me seriously at all. It seemed the perfume meant to be my surprise had never been meant for me in the first place. I lowered my eyes and spoke calmly. "Never mind, it's nothing. I'm tired—I don't want to try on the wedding dress anymore!" Ken let out a breath of relief and quickly offered to take me home. The moment the car unlocked, Beth beat me to it and slid naturally into the passenger seat. She looked at my stunned face and laughed, bright and innocent. "Cece, if riding in the back didn't make me so carsick, I'd never sit next to this jerk!" Ken teasingly called her a busybody, but made no move at all to get her out. I looked at the cute little tag he'd hung on the passenger windshield himself, the one that read "The Wife's Seat," and silently bent down into the back seat. The car started, and the two of them in front went right back to their usual verbal sparring, trading insults like born enemies. But from where I sat, I could see clearly—Ken's right hand on the gearshift, and Beth's hand resting on her thigh, and as the car swayed, their fingers secretly hooked and rubbed together, like two cold snakes coiling tight in my stomach, sending a violent wave of nausea through me. After seeing me to my door, Ken gave me a thoughtful reminder. "Hurry in and rest. You have to be in top form before the wedding!" He turned to Beth. "What about you? Going home?" Beth stretched. "Nope. The old man's a pain. I'm going to stay at The Grand Imperial Hotel!" The Grand Imperial Hotel? That was one of my brother's many hidden businesses back home. Watching the car vanish down the road, I dialed my brother's number again. "Brother, look into someone for me. She's staying at The Grand Imperial Hotel—Beth!"

Before the files arrived, my brother's call came first. His voice on the phone carried a rare gravity: "Cece, it's right here in my hands. Are you sure you want to see it?" He paused, his tone softening: "Some things, if you stay in the dark, maybe they just pass. But once you see them, there may really be no turning back!" I understood his concern. After all, the old me had loved Ken Henson without any limits at all. When his family's investments failed and their cash flow snapped, I put up my own cash, even sold a set of jewelry my mother left me, to plug the hole for him. He casually said he liked girls with hair down to their waist, so I never cut my hair again, even though maintaining it cost me so much time. His mother complained I wasn't wifely enough, so I dropped everything at the company and ran off to learn flower arranging and cooking with a group of housewives. One word from him that he was busy, and I obediently canceled the trip I'd been looking forward to for so long, sitting alone in front of my birthday cake, crying while I made excuses for him: "Work comes first!" All of it, everything from the past, now came back like so many boomerangs, stabbing my heart until it was riddled with holes. Not worth it. So not worth it! I took a deep breath, my firm tone edged with a ruthless bite: "Denys, I know I was a fool. For him, I was ready to throw myself away entirely!" "But I'm a daughter of the Cox family. I can lose, I can hurt, but I won't let anyone play me for a fool, and I won't disgrace the Cox name!" There was a long silence on the other end, and then my brother's low laughter came through: "Good! You still remember the Cox backbone in your blood. Since you've decided, then see it through, even if you end up bloodied and battered!" When the video opened, the unwatchable images and sounds came pouring out through the screen. Beth Henson's intoxicated face, panting softly: "Ken, in front of her... do you lose yourself like this too? Or... are you picturing my face?" Ken Henson suddenly crushed his mouth over hers, grinding for a long moment before letting out a resentful growl: "That filthy mouth of yours—this is the only way to shut it up!" Then, with a lazy assessment: "Cece... she's sensible, very obedient, perfect to marry and keep as a wife. Just too settled—you can see the whole thing at a glance..." Beth rolled over and sat on top of him, her eyes languid with allure: "Then if you're not full after the wedding, remember to come find me. I've got plenty of tricks!" "A block of wood like Cecilia Cox—she'll never learn it in this lifetime..." Videos like this crammed the entire screen. My brother sent a message, his tone icy: "The hotel staff meant to look for clues while cleaning, and it turned out Beth's laptop was left open—they copied all the good stuff inside!" "There are a full 540 videos of them like this, going all the way back to when they were teenagers at the old Henson estate, plus a lot shot from overseas IP addresses, each one dated!" My hands shook as I counted off those overseas videos on my fingers. My birthday, our anniversary, Valentine's Day... every important day I once looked forward to, only to have him put me off with the excuse of a "work assignment"— on every one of them, he'd been at Beth's side. And back then, I was still pouring my heart out to my best friend Beth on those overseas calls. On the other end of the line, what kind of face was she wearing—sympathizing and comforting me while she and Ken laughed at how stupid I was? My heart felt like it was being clenched tight in a giant hand; I couldn't breathe. The sheer absurdity and disgust of it nearly drowned me. I picked up my phone and typed it out to my brother, word by word: Are you coming to my wedding? The screen lit up with a reply right away: "My sister's wedding—as her big brother, of course I have to come and make a good scene of it!"

In the days that followed, the three of us were the most dedicated actors. I tried on wedding gowns, finalized the menu, and checked the guest list as usual, a bride-to-be's happy smile fixed on my face the whole time. But whenever Ken wanted to be intimate with me, I would always slip away without a trace, using the excuse that "there's so much to do before the wedding, and I'm exhausted." At first he was understanding, but after it happened again and again, dissatisfaction crept into his face, and he began coming home late more and more often, blaming it on "business dinners." As for me, I made no fuss, no scenes—sweet, obedient, sensible. On my wedding day, I sat in the dressing room, staring blankly at my perfectly made-up reflection in the mirror. Until Mr. and Mrs. Henson walked in wearing loving expressions. Lucia took my hand, her tone affectionate: "Cece, after today we'll all be family. There's something I'm not sure I should say..." "You see, now that you've married Ken, with a husband to care for and children to raise, you'll have your hands too full for household matters. Why don't you hand your shares and management rights in the Cox company over to Ken to look after for now?" "That way you can focus on giving the Henson family heirs. Your dad and I are so looking forward to a grandson!" Hugh nodded along at her side: "That's right. A woman should put her family first in the end. As for business, that's for the men to grind away at!" Beneath their faces, all seemingly so concerned for my sake, I could see greed and calculation they couldn't begin to hide, and I sneered inwardly. But a gentle, obedient smile bloomed on my face: "Dad, Mom, you're absolutely right. I'll do whatever you say. After the wedding, I'll hand the company over to Ken!" They exchanged a glance, wild joy they couldn't suppress on their faces. After a few more words of feigned concern, they left, thoroughly satisfied. The wedding ceremony officially began, and the emcee, in the most heart-tugging tone, recounted my "deeply moving" love story with Ken. "Now, let us all witness the happy moments this couple has shared!" Thunderous applause and cheers broke out from the crowd. The screen flickered, then lit up. But the sweet wedding video montage that was supposed to appear never came. Instead, there was a dim, luxurious themed suite. Ken and Beth, tangled together—their faces, and the furious "Bull" tattoo at Beth's waist— all of it displayed brazenly across a hundred-inch HD screen. Beth's wanton voice and Ken's panting remarks surrounded the room in stereo through the hotel's speakers: "My tricks... I've got plenty of them! A block of wood like Cecilia Cox could never learn any of it in her whole life!" "She's sensible, very obedient—good to marry and bring home as a wife..." ... After a deathly silence, the entire banquet hall exploded. Screams, murmurs, and mocking laughter all blended together, loud enough to blow the roof off. Ken's smile froze in an instant, the blood draining from his face as he stared at the screen in terror, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Beth! Hugh and Lucia, who had been sitting in the audience beaming, waiting for the ceremony to end so they could pocket a fortune in assets for free, were frozen in place too now, faces livid, bodies trembling. I stood there quietly, and the moment Ken's panicked, suspicious gaze locked onto me, I suddenly swayed violently, crumpling toward the floor as if I might faint at any second. I reached out, my hand trembling, and pointed at Beth down in the crowd, just as pale, trying to hide. My voice broke into a sob, desperate and furious as I demanded: "Beth... I treated you like my very best friend!" "I know you hate my husband, but how could you—how could you use such a filthy scheme against Ken! And play a video like this at our wedding!" "Do you hate him so much that you have to ruin his whole life?!"