"Mr. Wilfred Smith and Miss Sherling Anderson's engagement is truly a match made in heaven!"

Within a massive manor in the Middle Ages style, located halfway up the hill, a reporter held up a microphone with a smile while looking at the handsome man and beautiful woman on stage announcing their engagement.

The protagonist of the day was Wilfred Smith, the dream lover of every girl in London, and the leading lady was the recently popular film and TV actress, Miss Sherling from the Anderson family, Sherling Anderson.

Both of them are a perfect match from equally matched and wealthy families, truly pleasing to the eye.

However, when all the reporters were recording this blissful moment, a girl wearing a cheap dress bypassed everyone and rushed straight to the stage.

"Wilfred, why are you holding her hand? I am your fiancee!"

The girl looked aggrieved with her terror-inducing, colorfully painted face even more horrific under her grievance.

The sight of her ghostly visage left the reporters below the stage in a state of sheer terror, as if they had just encountered a supernatural entity.

They all whispered to each other, "Isn't this the youngest daughter of the Andersons, Sarah Anderson?"

"That's her, everyone says Sarah Anderson is an idiot with an intelligence level of a six-year-old, I didn't believe it before, but I do now..."

"This is quite a drama! Two sisters fighting over one man! Hurry up and get all this on camera!"

The girl in the poor-quality dress was oblivious to these snide remarks.

She looked at Wilfred and her eyes fell on Sherling's snow-white dress on her side and their closely entwined hands...

All this deeply pained her eyes.

Biting her teeth anxiously, she shouted, "Wilfred is mine, he's my future husband, let go of him!"

With that, she rushed over, trying to push Sherling away from Wilfred's side.

"Stay away from my Wilfred!"

"Ah!" Upon seeing Sarah in front of her, a glint of mischief flashes through Shrling's eyes. She feigns horror and screams, retreating into wilfred's arms.

Wilfred instantly lifts his hand to hold her, whispering reassurances, "Sherling, don't be scared."

Before Sarah could reach Sherling, another hand flew out from the side and violently slapped her across the face!

The slap is forceful. In the blink of an eye, one side of Sarah's face turns red and swollen, and she collapses on the ground.

"Sarah!" At the sound of the commotion, Maxwell Anderson storms out from the mansion's main hall, furious, and glares at Sarah beneath him, eyes alight with rage.

He roars, "What are you doing here causing chaos? Get out of here!"

"Dad..." Sarah said, shrinking back in fear. After a moment, she mustered the courage to meet Sherling's gaze head-on.

"Dad, I came according to our agreement, to accept Wilfred's proposal! Wilfred is mine—"

"Shut up!" Maxwel's gaze darkens. "Sarah, you better shut up and leave. This is your sister's press conference!"

But Sarah, whose brain seems a bit slow, fails to notice the threat in his words.

She struggles to her feet, pulls out two paper crane-shaped rings from her pocket, and raises them high, "She's not my sister, I don't have a sister! Wilfred is mine, mom said that when I grow up, I could be Wilfred's wife. He promised me himself!"

The moment those words were uttered, an electrifying spark ignited in the eyes of the reporters down below, as they eagerly anticipated what was to come next.

What they love the most is big news. The initial engagement contract with Wilfred Smith was with the Anderson family's Youngest daughter Sarah.

But ironically, the girl who had just accepted their blessings on the stage was the first daughter Sherling!

Was it Wilfred who had changed his heart, or did the Anderson family also despise this foolish young lady?

Any speculation is fine as long as it is newsworthy and worth discussing.

Maxwell noticed the stares of the reporters below the stage, loathing the idea that today's spectacle would be fully documented and published in tomorrow's newspapers. He couldn't help feeling the urge to kill his daughter at this moment.

Suppressing the rage in his heart, he waved his hand sharply, "Someone, drag the young lady out for me!"

The bodyguards, receiving the order, unceremoniously dragged Sarah away from the scene.

Their grip was so strong, it almost seemed like they were going to tear off Sarah's arm.

"No, I won't leave, I want to marry Wilfred!"

Sarah was in tears from the force, yet she was still struggling with all her might. With red eyes, she held up the ring in her hand towards Wilfred on the stage.

"Wilfred, save me."

"This is the ring that I made for you, you promised that once I finished the ring, you would marry me..."

Wilfred looked at sarah with disgust. Due to her recent struggle, her hair was a mess. Her originally chaotic makeup was now simply unbearable to look at!

Looking at her, he was reminded of the stupid and annoying dog he had abandoned when he was a child.

How could he possibly have said those words to Sarah?

He didn't even want to exchange a single word with this woman!

Wilfred no longer wanted to look at this nauseating face, so he promptly averted his gaze.

Due to this, he did not notice the smug smile that subtly graced the lips of Sherling, who was in his arms, after hearing Sarah's words.

That's correct, those words were all said by her to Sarah.

How could Sarah have escaped the Anderson family without disclosing that information and end up embarrassing herself here?

She and Wilfred are already engaged. It doesn't matter if a simple press conference gets ruined.

No matter how bad it is, she can simply buy some media coverage later to save some face.

Her objective is to make Wilfred feel disgusted by the woman, spread Sarah's reputation for being unintelligent across London, and provoke her father into a fit of anger. The desired outcome is for her father to expel Sarah from his life in a fit of rage.

As expected, just as she had anticipated, Maxwell was thoroughly infuriated by his foolish daughter!

All cameras were now pointed at him and Sarah.

To think that he had lived such a long life, only to have his reputation ruined by his own daughter at this age!

How could he not be furious?

He didn't care for anything else and directly went up to seize Sarah by the back of her neck, dragging her out.

After leaving the manor and ensuring there was no one in sight, Maxwell's finally lost. With a sudden gesture, he snatched the ring from Sarah's hand, his grip crushing it. Then, with a fierce expression, he harshly threw the ring on the ground, as if he wanted to erase any memory of it.

It wasn't enough to pacify his anger. He stomped on the ring, back and forth several times.

Sarah's heart sank as she watched in horror as Maxwell stepped on the ring she had made with her own hands, crushing it beneath his feet. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her hands trembled with the realization that the precious keepsake was now irreparably damaged. The sight of the almost shattered ring filled her with a deep sense of loss, and she couldn't help but let out a cry of despair.

"Dad, no, that's the gift I want to give to Wilfred!"

She crawled laboriously, crawling her way to Maxwell's side, trying to reach underneath his foot to retrieve her ring.

But to Maxwell, there was no notion of father-daughter affection.

He raised his foot once again, stepping harshly on Sarah's hand and fingers with his hardened sole.

"I, Maxwell Anderson, have lived a life of wisdom. How could I have sired such a disgrace of a daughter? You will be the death of me!"

He waved his hand, and the bodyguards behind him stepped forward.

Maxwell glared at Sarah and instructed the bodyguards, "Take care of her. Throw her off the hill when you're done."

Watching the bodyguards punching and kicking sarah on the ground, Maxwell felt some of the anger in his heart dissipate.

He sneered coldly before turning around to leave, returning to attend the press conference.

On the other side, the bodyguards' powerful fists landed on Sarah's head, back, legs... But Sarah acted as if she felt nothing, her eyes fixedly staring at the ruined ring in front of her. She continually reached out with her trembling hand, trying to pick it up.

Seeing that she could still move, the bodyguards increased their movement with more force. mostly hitting her head with their shoes

As Sarah lay there, her body began to twitch. It was only a matter of time before her hand, which had been extended for so long, finally fell back to the ground.

Only then did the bodyguards stop, throwing her off the hill.

The base of the mountain was adorned with a breathtaking view of cherry blossoms in full bloom. The delicate pink petals of the blossoms were gently swaying in the breeze, creating a tranquil atmosphere. The sight of the flowers contrasted beautifully with the rugged terrain of the mountain, making it a picture-perfect scene.

one could hear the pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof. The sky had turned an ominous shade of grey, and dark clouds had gathered, obscuring the scorching sun that had been shining brightly just a few moments ago. The gentle breeze had turned into a gust, and the leaves on the trees rustled loudly. And then, as if on cue, the rain began to fall, first in scattered droplets, then in a steady stream, soaking everything in its path.

The rain soaked Sarah's dirty gown by the roadside.

The blood flowing from her body spread out, extending to the middle of the road.

A Rolls-Royce limousine, heading down the mountain, came to a halt when it encountered a pool of blood in the middle of the road.

The driver followed the trail of blood with his eyes, causing his pupils to slightly contract.

"sire! There appears to be a corpse over there!"

The man seated at the back of the room exuded an air of sophistication and elegance. He sat with his legs crossed, his body tall and lean, and his posture exquisitely refined. His jet-black suit fit him perfectly and accentuated his dignified demeanor. The creases on his trousers and the lapels of his jacket were immaculately pressed, and not a single hair was out of place on his well-groomed head. It was clear that this man had a keen eye for detail and took great pride in his appearance.

He had been resting with his eyes closed.

As he caught wind of the remarks, his eyelids slowly lifted, revealing a pair of piercing eyes. Through the blurry veil of raindrops trickling down the windowpane, he fixed his icy gaze on the outside world, lost in thought. The room fell silent as he scanned the dreary scene outside, his expression inscrutable.

As his eyes fell upon the corner of the dress, he couldn't help but notice the stubborn dirt that clung to it. However, even in its soiled state, the dress seemed to hold an unexplainable allure that drew him in. As he gazed at it, a deep, indescribable emotion welled up within him, causing his dark and lustrous eyes to appear even more intense.

A 'click', the sound of the car door opening.

The man's voice was deep and pleasing, rich as red wine. It seemed to roll off his tongue with a velvety smoothness that was both pleasing to the ear and captivating to the soul. It was a voice that could command attention and respect, yet also soothe and comfort with its warm and inviting tone.

As he directed the driver, "Go and take a look."