Betrayed by the Father Reborn in His Rival's Arms novel Chapter 273

"Stop it! Turn it off!"

"Don't show anymore!"

Liliana Lansbury screamed like a maniac.

The security footage of her and the six wealthy heirs was playing in excruciatingly clear, high-definition motion on the massive screen.

She completely broke down, scrambling forward in a desperate bid to find the power switch and kill the broadcast.

But in her panic, her foot caught on the trailing hem of her haute couture wedding dress, and she tumbled straight down from the top of the grand spiral staircase she had personally designed.

She bounced and rolled down the steps, miraculously avoiding a broken neck thanks to the thick white fabric and foam padding lining the grand descent.

It was only on the final impact, where the stairs met the slick marble floor, that her forehead split open.

Crimson blood welled from the gash, but she didn't care in the slightest, shrieking hysterically, "Turn it off, turn it off now!"

Pathetic didn't even begin to describe her state, and the bleeding wound was the least of it.

The blood smeared her flawless makeup, her dazzling jewelry lay askew, and the pristine wedding gown was a torn, tangled mess.

The entire venue erupted in roaring laughter; not a single person stepped forward to help her up, all of them staring at her as if she were a pathetic clown.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, declaring this was exactly the karma she deserved.

After all, her ruthless tactics to drive away the lawful wife and steal her position were notoriously despicable.

No one had a shred of sympathy to offer her, let alone step up to defend her honor.

Meanwhile, Lucius Whitman stared blankly at the screen, recognizing the woman in the video as his fiancée.

Yet, it was as if she were a stranger; the wild, uninhibited abandonment and sheer shamelessness she displayed were foreign to him.

She acted like an absolute tramp, a far cry from the pure, devoted girl he thought only had eyes for him.

It felt impossible that this was the same woman.

He watched in stunned horror for several minutes; the footage was so sickeningly graphic that it would make anyone's stomach churn.

Suddenly, his stomach seized.

He bent over the lavish floral arrangements and threw up violently onto the white roses.

Even as he retched, the shockingly explicit scenes battered his mind and shattered his entire worldview.

The moans and screams continued to echo relentlessly from the speakers.

Then, to make matters worse, a man's voice complained clearly through the audio.

He felt zero physical desire for her, knew they had no future, and firmly believed they shouldn't tie the knot.

But Arthur Whitman had forced his hand, making the engagement an inescapable reality.

As a result, he inevitably judged her by the standards of a wife, which made the cruel mockery cut so much deeper.

The realization that his future bride had willingly entertained so many men filled him with a suffocating wave of disgust.

No sane man could ever accept this.

He emptied his stomach completely.

His head spun dizzily.

He felt physically ill and utterly humiliated.

Eleanor Prescott and the Whitman elders were caught completely off guard by the scandalous broadcast.

No matter how desperate the Whitmans were to curry favor with the Prescotts.

They still possessed basic dignity; as the city's most prominent family, there was no way they could tolerate their future daughter-in-law starring in an explicit tape at her own engagement party.

Even Eleanor never imagined the girl could be so utterly reckless.