The man stared at the words for a moment, then burst into laughter, as if hearing the greatest joke of his life. "You're Celine's husband?"
He pulled out his phone and started a live stream, shoving it in my face. "Open your eyes and take a good look. Celine's wedding is about to start. I wonder how many lives you have to dare impersonate her husband!"
On the screen, Celine stood at the entrance of a hotel, wearing a pristine crystal wedding gown, with a bouquet of fresh flowers pinned to her chest, anxiously scanning the crowd.
"Ms. Alba, the auspicious time is almost here. Why hasn’t the groom arrived yet?"
The host’s puzzled voice came from the phone.
Celine frowned, glanced at her watch, said something to her bridesmaids, and then turned to enter the hotel.
My heart tightened. Had she noticed something was wrong?
"Are you done looking?"
The man withdrew his phone and stomped on my writing hand, crushing my fingers.
"I could tell from yesterday that a toad like you wants to eat swan meat! I never thought you’d still be so persistent! You probably don’t know, Ms. Alba's husband is a well-known forensic expert, highly regarded even by the police! Not someone like you, a deadbeat gambler!"