Humiliated by My Fiancée, Crowned by Revenge

"God, that's disgusting! Bet he did it on purpose so people would splash him! Creep!" The chatter around us only deepened the satisfaction in Judy's eyes. A wave of revulsion crawled through me. Eight years. I'd turned down every arranged marriage my family offered—every single one—to stay with Judy. When the Henson family's business nearly collapsed three separate times, I went to my father on my knees so he'd bail them out. Earlier this year, she finally said yes to my proposal, and I thought the eight years had been worth every last thing I'd given up. Then Howard James walked back into the country the very next day. Everything changed after Howard came back. I'd only agreed to take over the family's Meridian City branch to give Judy—to give us—one final chance. Looking at her now, I didn't need one. "Dustin, if you won't even say sorry, you're really going to make me cry…" Howard's eyes were brimming with tears. I swallowed the disgust clawing up my throat and shoved myself to my feet. My fist came up and slammed square into Howard's face. I ripped the high-pressure water gun from the man beside me, aimed it straight at Howard's crotch, and pulled the trigger. His shorts were soaked through in a second—red cartoon-print underwear on full display for every last person watching. "Don't run!" I kept the water gun on him without letting up. "Water Splash Festival, right? Whole point is getting drenched! Come on!!" Howard cupped both hands over his crotch and scrambled behind Judy, shrieking the entire way. The bruise from my fist was already darkening on his face. I grabbed the scarf from Judy's hand and threw it around my own shoulders. One cold look at her, and I turned to leave. The kick hit my lower back before I'd taken a full step. Judy. Pain drilled straight through the old wound and locked my whole body rigid. But it didn't come close to the pain in my chest. Three years ago, a rival faction kidnapped Judy. I brought every last man from Crown City to get her back. A knife went clean through my lower back. Eighteen hours on the operating table. Thirty-six steel pins just to hold my spine together. The day I was discharged, Judy knelt in front of me and told me what I'd done for her was a debt she could never repay in this lifetime. For three years after that, every time the sky turned gray or the rain set in, the pain nailed me to the bed—and Judy would cancel everything, meetings, dinners, all of it, just to stay beside me pressing hot compresses against my back, hour after hour, without stopping. Now, for Howard's sake, she'd kicked me right in that same spot. "Dustin, I told you. Apologize. Or you're not leaving here in one piece." Judy's voice, cold as iron, dragged me back. She pressed her foot down on my lower back. *Crack.* Something deep in my spine gave way—a white-hot, nerve-shredding bolt of pain that ripped a strangled groan out of me before I could clamp it down. I knew instantly. Something in there had just snapped. The surgeon's warning echoed through the haze: one more serious hit to my lower back, and I'd never walk again. No surgeon on earth could undo it. My father's words on the phone just minutes ago flashed through my mind. I clenched my teeth, looked up at Judy, and forced the words out through the shaking. "I was wr—" She cut me off before I could finish. "Apologize?! You think I still want to hear it?!" Viciousness gleamed in her eyes. "Dustin, I've spent eight years spoiling you rotten. Today, I'm putting you back in your place." She glanced over her shoulder. Dozens of water guns swung toward me in unison. The jets hit all at once, dense as whips, hammering into my face, my chest, my back. The force knocked me flat. Judy reached down and laced her fingers through Howard's.

Howard aimed the water gun straight at my face. Water forced itself up my nose, flooded my ear canals, burned like fire through every passage it touched. I tried to rise, but the pressure blurred everything to nothing. I couldn't even lift my head. All I could do was kneel there and take it—jet after jet of ice-cold water slamming into me, every blast a fresh jolt of agony. Howard saw what I looked like on my knees and let out a shrill, ugly laugh. The moment she saw Howard laughing, Judy finally stopped. She draped herself against him, nestling into his arms with that syrupy, performative sweetness, her voice so honeyed it could rot teeth. "Howard, happy now?" "With you, I'm always happy..." Howard's answer drew a triumphant little laugh from Judy, but before it had even faded, he put on a pitiful, wounded look and spoke again. "But..." Judy's smile vanished instantly. "But what?" "Howard, don't hold back. I'm here. Just tell me what you want." Howard slid his arm around Judy's slender waist, stroking the back of her hand over and over as he spoke slowly, "My clothes just got soaked because of Dustin... I'm so cold..." "That's fine, I'll take you to the mall right now and buy you something new." "No." Howard pointed at me, pulling Judy tighter against him. "I want the one on Dustin. That one. Give it to me now." "Not a chance!" I cut him off, my voice hard. This ceremonial coat was the Sanchez family heirloom—every head of the family wore it the day they took the seat. The family held it as sacred as the name itself. And this one, the one on my back, my mother had tailored to my frame stitch by stitch with her own hands before she died. My father kept it pristine for twenty years, waiting for the day I took over the regional branch. I clutched my shoulders and staggered to my feet. The ice-cold fabric against my skin made me shake uncontrollably. Judy glanced in my direction, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. After a few seconds of silence, she gripped Howard's hand tight and said softly, "Howard, that rag he's wearing is nothing worth having. The style's been dead for years." "And it's soaked in dirty water. You'd catch a cold the second you put it on. We don't need it—come on, I'll take you to buy something new..." "No!" Howard shoved Judy out of his arms. Tears spilled down his face instantly. "I want Dustin's coat—I want that one! The only reason you won't give it to me is because you feel sorry for him, isn't it? He matters more to you than I do?!" "No, I just think it's ugly and it's wet..." "I think it's beautiful! I don't care if it's wet, I want it!" Judy's body went rigid for two seconds. "Judy, you obviously feel sorry for him..." "I don't!" The words snapped out of her without a breath's hesitation. Then she turned to me, voice flat and cold. "Dustin, you heard him. Howard wants the coat. Take it off." I looked at the wall of people packed tight around us, then stared at Judy, my voice barely holding together. "Judy... you want me to strip? Right here?" "Strip!" The word hit the air and the crowd went feral. They crushed in tighter, eyes crawling over every line of my body, faces twisted with vicious amusement. "Strip! Miss Henson said strip—what are you waiting for?!" "That's right, Miss Henson! Teach this creep a lesson! Show him who runs this city!" The man closest to me saw I still hadn't moved,

He grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked. *Riiip!* The shirt ripped apart in his hands—two ragged halves, just like that. The crowd erupted in a jeering cheer. Judy rushed over and shoved the man aside, pulled off her own jacket, and threw it over me. Then she turned to Howard. "Howard, the shirt's already ruined. We don't need to—" "I want it!" Howard cut her off again. He must have seen her still wavering, because he reached into his bag, pulled out a knife, and pressed the blade to his own throat. His whole body was shaking. He looked at Judy, voice cracking. "Judy, my mom and dad died overseas—you promised you'd take care of me, that's the only reason I came back…" "You can't even do this one small thing for me. How am I supposed to trust you? I'd rather just die…" "Don't!" Before Howard could press down, Judy lunged forward and grabbed the blade with her bare hand. Blood ran down her wrist like a thin stream. Three years ago, the day I charged into a gang hideout alone to save her, she'd thrown her forearm in front of a machete meant for me. She told me she'd only ever bleed for me in this life. Turns out that promise had a three-year shelf life. "Judy, I don't want to make things hard for you…" "You're not!" Judy spun around and strode toward me. "You want that coat, Howard? I'll rip it off him myself!" The words barely left her mouth before she tore away the jacket she'd just draped over me. Then she seized my waistband and wrenched it down. "Judy!" I forced everything I had into my arms and clamped down on her wrists. My eyes were bloodshot, fixed on hers, my voice shaking. "You can't do this! My mother sewed this stitch by stitch. You know what it means to me…" Hesitation flickered through Judy's eyes. But right then, Howard's wounded voice rose behind her again. "Judy, I really don't see the point in being alive anymore. My mom and dad are gone. Anyone can push me around…" The hesitation in her hands vanished, replaced by force. The look she gave me went cold. "Dustin, you brought this on yourself! You're your mother's son, but Howard was someone's child too!" "He blasted me with the water cannon first!" "That was a blessing!" "Dustin, ever since Howard came back you've been against him at every turn, and you still can't see what you've done wrong! I've been way too easy on you!" "Today I'm teaching you a lesson you won't forget!" The moment the words left her mouth, she pulled with everything she had. *RIIIP!!* My pants split apart down the middle. Judy glanced at the crowd around us. She saw their mocking stares—and she still shoved me away, stripping my body out of the two ruined halves of fabric for everyone to see. Jeers cut through the air from every direction. I choked down the nausea churning in my stomach, crawled to where the torn ceremonial coat lay, and dragged it over myself to cover my bare skin. I'd barely managed it when Judy came striding over again. She grabbed the other corner of the coat. "Judy!" I stared her down, every word forced through my teeth. "All this—for one man's pathetic little act. You'll die ugly for this, Judy. Mark my words." "Touch me one more time, and I swear you and that animal will both die ugly." "Oh!" Judy stopped mid-motion. She gripped my chin hard, studying me with pure amusement in her eyes. "There it is again, the great Young Mr. Sanchez act! But this is Meridian City, darling." Howard saw his opening and strode forward. He looked me up and down in my wrecked state and let out a contemptuous laugh. "Dustin, come on—even if you call people in, what are they gonna do? We splashed a little water on you. It's the Water Splash Festival! If getting splashed at a water festival could kill someone, is there any justice left in this world?" They were certain they hadn't broken any laws. Certain that a young master from Crown City couldn't touch them here. They wanted to use this chance to grind me into the dirt, and maybe the entire Sanchez family with me. But they were too stupid. While they stood there running their mouths, spewing filth at me without pause, a hundred pitch-black industrial water-cannon trucks were rolling toward them in a slow, unstoppable column. As the roar of those hundred industrial beasts filled the air, I looked at Judy and Howard and smiled—cold, and for the first time tonight, real. Fine. You love playing with water so much? I'll play with you today.