Chapter 8

As dusk fell and Rosalie still hadn't returned, the wedding festivities had already reached the traditional wedding pranks stage.

In this village, where women outnumbered men, the custom of teasing the groomsmen had been preserved.

Mona had wandered off somewhere to chat, leaving me alone with a group of men and women I didn't know.

Soon, I was surrounded by bridesmaids in dresses, while villagers nearby had already raised their phones, their faces lit with anticipation.

The bridesmaids, eager to begin, grabbed at me. Seven or eight hands started pulling me toward the grassy area's center.

I hadn't noticed until then that a chain had somehow been hooked onto my clothes—one end connected to the base of a wooden doghouse, the other held by the bridesmaids.

By the time I realized and tried to resist, a dozen people had already rushed in, forcing me to the ground and crudely binding my hands and feet with iron chains.

I instinctively reached for my pocket. However, the villagers