What kind of a spectacle was this?
The bride-to-be comes to try on a wedding dress accompanied by her fake fiancé, a fake mother-in-law, and one real best friend. The fake mother-in-law is planning a fake wedding for the bride. The fake fiancé claims his love is real but agrees to the fake wedding. As if that weren’t enough, the fake fiancé and the real best friend are actually a real married couple. The bride seems to be the victim, but she doesn’t seem like an innocent party either; she’s playing them all like fools because she’s actually about to marry someone else.
And now she was saying it was “appropriate” for her fiancé and her best friend to take a wedding photo together?
Appropriate?
The consultants’ sense of reality was once again under assault.
Zebulon, surprisingly, cooperated, probably fearing that if Rebecca started crying, she would spill everything. As for Rebecca, looking at Penelope taking their picture, she felt a twisted sense of pleasure.
In her eyes, Penelope was just a pathetic fool. She had no idea her marriage certificate was fake, that the wedding she was looking forward to was a sham. Rebecca was Zebulon’s real wife, the true daughter-in-law of the Sullivan family. They were the real family, and Penelope was just their plaything—a plaything who was currently taking their picture.
How stupid. How utterly naive.
Penelope didn’t just take one photo. She found the best angles, the best backgrounds, and snapped several shots, looking like she was having the time of her life.
“Wow, Penelope, these pictures are amazing!” Rebecca said, her eyes glinting with mockery.
“I think so too. Maybe I should just let you have my husband,” Penelope replied with a wink.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rebecca said, shaking her head.
“You don’t want him?”
“Penelope!”
“Are you sure you don’t want him?”
Rebecca’s eyes darted around, and she decided to play along. “Zebulon is handsome, gentle, and thoughtful. If you’re offering, of course I’ll take him!”
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