Chapter 4

The dressing room door was pushed open, and several maids filed in.

They carried heavy-duty shapewear, their expressions cold.

"Miss Watson, please cooperate. We need to help compress your body."

"This time the measurements are even smaller. It might take two people pulling, and it will hurt a bit. Please bear with it."

In the past, during every dress fitting, I'd let them do whatever they wanted.

Even when my ribs ached from the compression, even when my skin was rubbed bloody, I would just grit my teeth and endure.

Because Pierce said this was for love, for our wedding.

But today, looking at the binding straps in their hands, I only felt ridiculous.

"Get out."

My voice was ice-cold.

The head maid paused, apparently not expecting me to resist.

"Miss Watson, our boss said tonight you must—"

"I said get out!"

I grabbed the scissors from the table and stabbed them hard into the vanity.

"I'll dress myself."

The maids were frightened by the ferocity in my eyes. After exchanging glances, they retreated.

The moment the door closed, I picked up the scissors and cut into those shapewear garments without hesitation.

The fabric tore.

This thing that had constricted me for three full years, keeping me awake countless nights in pain.

Finally became nothing but scraps of cloth in my hands.

I kicked the pieces aside and pulled out my phone, opening a food delivery app.

Fried chicken, pizza, cheesecake...

Every high-calorie food that Pierce had strictly forbidden for three years—I ordered it all.

Half an hour later, the delivery arrived.

I sat cross-legged on the expensive leather sofa and opened the fried chicken box.

The scent of deep-fried food instantly filled the entire room.

I grabbed a drumstick and took a huge bite.

The crispy skin, the tender and juicy meat, the oil bursting in my mouth.

This long-lost taste almost brought me to tears.

Just then, the dressing room door was violently pushed open.

Pierce rushed in, looking dusty from travel. Seeing this scene, he froze.

"Madison! What are you doing?!"

He charged over in a few strides and knocked the fried chicken out of my hand.

The golden chicken rolled onto the carpet, leaving a glaring oil stain.

Pierce was so angry his chest heaved violently. He pointed at the mess on the floor, his voice trembling.

"Have you lost your mind? One bite of that and half a month of effort is wasted!"

"Do you know how important tonight is?"

"Scarlett is downstairs waiting to see the results. This is how you repay me?"

Looking at his furious expression, I calmly wiped the grease from the corner of my mouth.

"Effort? What effort?"

"To turn myself into a cripple, or to please a woman who doesn't want me to be well?"

Pierce froze, as if he didn't understand what I was saying.

"What are you babbling about? What cripple?"

I looked up, meeting his eyes directly, and asked the question I'd been wanting to ask.

"Pierce, is that wedding dress really meant for a living person to wear?"

Pierce's eyes flickered, avoiding my gaze.

"Of... of course."

"It's an heirloom. As long as you lose just a little more weight, you'll be able to—"

"Just a little more weight?"

I laughed coldly.

"Or as long as my legs are broken, I'll fit right in?"

Pierce's expression instantly turned ugly.

He opened his mouth to explain, but was interrupted by the sound of a wheelchair at the door.