Chapter 4

I held up my ringing phone, looking down coldly at the family kneeling at my feet, their desperation laid bare for all to see.

“What are you so afraid of?”

The calm, practiced voice of the emergency dispatcher came through the receiver: “Hello, 911 emergency, how may I help you?”

I spoke calmly: “Hello, I’d like to report a crime.”

The police arrived quickly.

Perhaps due to the unusual location—City Hall—they were on the scene almost immediately.

I pointed to the silver necklace lying on the ground, the one I had ripped off, and addressed the lead officer.

“Officer, I’d like to report something.”

“This woman… she is not my fiancée.”

With that single statement, the entire scene fell into a deathly silence once more.

Everyone stared at me as if I were insane.

Seraphina’s body swayed, almost collapsing to the ground.

I ignored their reactions and calmly pulled a folded document from the inner pocket of my suit.

I unfolded the document and handed it to the officer.

It was a hospital allergy test report.

“My fiancée, Seraphina Dawson, is severely allergic to silver products.”

“It’s a top-level, life-threatening allergy.”

“The report states it clearly: a ‘critical’ risk assessment.”

“Let alone wearing it around her neck, even direct skin contact for more than a minute would immediately trigger acute anaphylactic shock. Without prompt medical attention, it could be fatal.”

I paused, my gaze like a sharpened blade, slowly turning to the fake Seraphina, whose face was now ghastly pale.

I pointed at her, enunciating each word clearly for everyone present:

“From the moment I saw her until I ripped off this necklace, at least an hour passed.”

“She wore this pure silver necklace for over an hour, yet she is completely unharmed.”

My voice echoed through the entrance of City Hall, every word a hammer blow striking the hearts of everyone present.

I looked into her pupils, which were constantly constricting with fear, and asked the question that had been churning in my mind for an entire week.

“Now, tell me.”

“Who exactly are you?”

“And where is my real fiancée, Seraphina?”

The surrounding onlookers finally understood, their expressions shifting from sympathy to horror and anger as they looked at the fake Seraphina.

“Oh my God! She’s a fake?”