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Stolen Wedding, Beloved By The Detective
On my wedding day, my rival snatched my fiancé in public. The jerk forced me to yield under absurd traditions. Heart‐broken, I married the detective who’d secretly loved me for years. After ruining his family, he begged me for forgiveness holding withered bellflowers. Yet I already have true happiness. Should wrongdoers be forgiven just because they repent?










