The Wronged Heart

As the plane descended at the airport, raindrops slanted across the windowpane, mirroring the chaos in my heart at that moment. The night before I left abroad, Kevin Luke held me on the balcony and said that when I returned, we would retake our wedding photos and spend a month traveling—where we first met. My name is Quincy Scott. I had been working in mineral trade overseas for five years. Finally, my assignment ended, and I was preparing to surprise my husband, Kevin Luke. The moment I opened my phone, a flood of notifications nearly made me drop my suitcase handle—"Kevin Luke, son-in-law of the Luke family, engaged to a mysterious female entrepreneur; the wedding to be held today." The man in the photo wore a bespoke suit; his brows and eyes traced the well-known lines I've seen for eight years, yet the pregnant woman nestled beside him was jarringly unfamiliar. The jade bracelet on her wrist was remarkably similar to the one my mother had passed down to me. Blood surged to my head, my fingertips chilled and trembling; I nearly stumbled as I rushed out of the airport, telling the driver to head straight to the wedding banquet hotel featured in the news. "Ms. Scott, that is the city's most prestigious seven-star hotel; without a wedding invitation, you simply cannot enter." The driver's words were like a bucket of cold water, yet they could not extinguish the fierce fire burning in my chest. I clenched the marriage certificate in my pocket; the gold-embossed lettering on the cover was dampened by the cold sweat on my fingertips, which had turned pale: "I am his legal wife, and this certificate is my entry pass." A scarlet carpet was laid at the hotel entrance, stretching from the curb all the way to the banquet hall doors. Flower baskets were arranged into a winding dragon; white and red roses intertwined, filling the air with a rich floral scent. The guests were dressed impeccably; the men in suits and ties, the women in magnificent gowns. Amid their lively chatter and laughter, the glitter of jewelry dazzled the eyes, making it hard to look directly. The moment I stepped onto the carpet, my heel sinking into the soft velvet, I was stopped by two tall staff members in black suits. Their gaze bore a scornful appraisal, as if beholding something beneath their notice. "Madam, please present your wedding invitation." The staff member on the left extended his hand, knuckles pale and cold, his tone firm and uncompromising. "I am Quincy Scott, Kevin Luke's wife. This is his engagement banquet. As his lawful wife, I don’t need an invitation." I raised my voice, trying to make those around me hear; my voice trembled slightly with emotion. Someone lifted their phone to photograph me; the flash burned my eyes painfully. Others whispered quietly, "This woman must be crazy." "She's desperate to take his place." "She looks decent enough, but why is she behaving so improperly?" A staff member sneered, a mocking smile curling at his lips: "Mr. Luke's fiancée is Ms. Ella Carter. We've seen many women like you trying to steal the spotlight. Hurry up and leave; don't cause any trouble here." My heart sank sharply, as if plunging into an ice cellar. I pulled the red marriage certificate from my bag and slammed it down hard on the registration table before them. The paper made a sharp sound: "Look closely! This is the marriage certificate stamped by the Civil Affairs Bureau—I am Kevin Luke's legitimate wife!" The staff member on the right waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing a fly, and actually swept the marriage certificate off the table onto the floor.