When He Crushed My Hand to Save His Mistress, I Married His Worst Enemy

"On my wedding day, the little secretary who always fought me for the passenger seat suddenly stopped fighting.

Elena pointed to the seat beside the groom in the back of the wedding car and said, “I want to sit here.”

“Sister, didn't you say you get severe carsickness and will throw up if you sit in the back?”

“Today, since it's your wedding, I'll let you have the front passenger seat. I'll sit next to Salvatore and suffer once.”

I stood in front of the wedding car, relatives' whispers rising around me, my parents unable to lift their heads.

“Get her out,” I said coldly.

Salvatore shook his head and looked at me helplessly. “Elena is already giving in to you. You still want to make a scene? Are you getting in or not?”

“If you don't get in, then don't. You can walk there yourself.”

“Fine. I'll walk.”

Without hesitation, I turned and walked toward the car at the back of the wedding convoy.

“Didn't you say you'd always wait for me in the same place? Marry me now.”

The convoy had been parked in front of my house, and Elena had sat in the car for three hours refusing to get out."