Imagine this. The same beggar everyone mocked. The same worthless man a cruel stepmother force her maid to marry just to humiliate her. Two weeks later, he returns not in rags, but in a private jet with guards, red carpet, and cameras flashing. And the shock. The maid they once despised is now

walking into the jet. his bride, his queen. This is not just a wedding.
It’s revenge, destiny, and transformation all in one. Darling, subscribe and watch to the end because this story will leave you speechless. The full that evening, the whole street came alive with whispers. Madame Zinab’s loud voice echoed like a market bell as she pointed her fat fingers at the

quiet young man standing in front of her house.
Dakes, she barked, her voice sharp enough to cut through steel. Who do you think you are? Eh, because you fixed my daughter’s car when it broke down in the dead of the night, you now see yourself as a husband. My friend, know your place. Why can’t you go and look for your social class instead of

dragging yourself like a disease to my doorstep? The neighbors gasped. Some covered their mouths.
Others leaned on one another, eager to hear more. The drama had begun. Dakes swallowed hard. He wanted to explain, but her venom didn’t give him the chance. You have insulted my daughter,” Zinab continued, adjusting her expensive rapper with pride. “Better kneel down now and apologize before she

loses her temper. I will not warn you again.” Before Dakes could breathe, the door swung open with a bang.
Out walked Amanda, tall, bold, and dripping with arrogance. She wasn’t holding a handbag or a phone. No. In her hand was a bucket not of clean water, but dark, filthy, stinking water. She looked at him once, smirked, and before anyone could blink, whoosh! The dirty water rained down on him from

head to toe. Gasps filled the air followed by uncontrollable laughter.
Some neighbors clapped their hands, others bent double with mockery. “This man has come to their own house,” one old woman murmured. “Now poi,” another added, shaking his head. Dakes froze. His shirt clung to his body, soaked and stinking. He looked at himself again, wondering if this was truly

happening. In all his life, never had he been so disgraced, so stripped of dignity, so naked before strangers without removing his clothes.
” Amanda dropped the bucket carelessly and sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Next time, don’t dream above your level. Not every fruit is for the monkey, my dear.” The crowd roared with laughter again. Madame Zinab clapped her hands in mock pity. Better carry your poverty elsewhere before I

call the security.
Imagine you want to marry my daughter. Who gave you such confidence? Oh, poverty can make people dream nonsense. Dake’s chest rose and fell. His eyes burned, not from anger, but from humiliation. The ground beneath him felt like it should open and swallow him whole. He clenched his fists but said

nothing. For the first time in his life, he tasted shame, bitter and raw.
The neighbors whispered among themselves, some pitying him, others mocking him louder. He wanted to shout. He wanted to remind them that the same hands they laughed at had carried Amanda home when she was stranded in the night. But what was the use? His kindness had been repaid with cruelty.

As the laughter grew louder, Dakes turned slowly, dripping, broken, humiliated, and the weight of shame pressed heavy on his chest. Just then, the iron gate creaked open. In walked Vera, Madame Zanab’s stepdaughter, a gentle soul, always treated as the shadow of the house. She paused the moment her

eyes fell on Dakes. Her lips parted in shock. “Oh my god, what happened? Did you Did you fall into the gutter?” she asked, rushing toward him without hesitation. The crowd shifted.
Whispers ran through them like fire. Some laughed. Others waited to see what drama this other daughter would add to the scene. Dakes opened his mouth. But no words came out. His pride was shattered, his throat dry. Vera didn’t wait for an answer. She looked at his dripping clothes again, then

quickly pulled off her own jacket.
here,” she said softly, trying to cover his shame. “Don’t stand like this. Please take it.” The onlookers gasped. A few chuckled, but the loudest sound came from Madame Zenab and Amanda, both of them bursting into cruel laughter. “Wonders shall never end!” Madame Zenab clapped her hands as if she

had just seen a circus show.
So Vera, the gutter man is now your prince charming, eh? Because no normal person can look at this thing and call him a human being. Amanda nearly doubled over in laughter, holding her stomach. Look at this comedy, she sneered. Poor meets poorer. Maybe you should tie your rapper on him, too, so the

two of you can start your dagger’s wedding immediately.
The crowd echoed their laughter, feeding on the cruelty. Some men slapped each other’s backs. Others whistled. Children pointed with tiny fingers and mocked. Uncle fell inside dirty water. But Vera stood firm. She ignored them, pulled her wrapper from her waist, and without shame tried to drape it

around Dake’s shoulders.
Her voice trembled with both anger and pity. Enough, Amanda. Enough, Mama. He is still human. Let’s treat him better. Her words only fueled Amanda’s arrogance. She tossed her long hair back and hissed. Oh, please. Fra Povik is contagious, my dear, and I don’t want to catch it. He is your type.

Madame Zinab chuckled wickedly, folding her arms. Let her cover him, Amanda.
Maybe this is the only man she can ever get. At least you won’t die single. The mockery stung like fire. Dakes lowered his head. He wanted to speak to defend Vera from their biting tongues, but his voice was trapped in his chest. Ver’s eyes softened. She whispered to Dakes, “Take this jacket. Take

the rapper, please.” He looked at her, shocked by the rare kindness in the midst of cruelty.
For a moment, his heart trembled, not from humiliation, but from the warmth of someone seeing him as human again. Still, a sound of mockery drowned that fragile moment. The laughter, the sarcasm, the shame. A made up his mind to walk away. Madame Zinab’s face hardened. Her eyes darted to Vera with

venom. If he’s leaving, Zinab said coldly.
Then you must go with him. The crowd gasped. All eyes turned to Vera. Yes, Vera. Zinab sneered. Since you like showing off as if you are better than my Amanda, then prove it. He came here to marry my daughter. And since we are not his class, you go to marry him instead. Right here, right now.

Vera’s eyes widened like a trapped bird. “Mom, I I’m not ready for marriage yet,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “That was all Amanda needed.” She burst into laughter so loud the neighbors clutched their bellies. Madame Zinab joined, clapping her hands in mockery. “Ehe look at her lips

shaking,” Amanda mocked. “Princess Ver scared to marry her gutter prince.
” Ver’s knees weakened and she dropped down before Madame Zinab. Her tears flowed as she begged, “Please, Mom, don’t send me out. I beg you. Not like this.” But Zinab’s face carried no mercy. Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “Vera, you don’t understand. I’ve been looking for a way to throw you

out of this house. And now God has answered me.
Since you love this street rat, your exit ticket is approved. Follow him. The crowd howled with laughter. Someone shouted, “Wedding of the century.” Another said, “And the beggar and beggar union.” Vera covered her face with her palms, trembling. Her lips opened, but no sound came out. The

humiliation was too heavy.
Dakes, who had stood frozen all along, finally stepped forward. His eyes, still dripping with shame, softened as they fell on Vera. His voice shook, but he forced the words out. Vera, you will surely be fine with me. Vera looked at him through her tears. Her voice cracked like broken glass. Yes,

maybe. But I think it should not be like this. Her words were drowned by another round of laughter.
Amanda clapped her hands, mocking loudly. “Oh, so this is romance now. My god, look at them.” Two beggars writing love letters with their eyes. The neighbors cheered at her sarcasm. Dakes’s fists clenched. Yet something inside him still refused to let Vera drown in the same humiliation. He took a

deep breath, raised his head, and said quietly but firmly, “Madame, please let me do it properly, even if it’s in a low key, Vera deserves that respect. I will come back for her in two weeks.
” For a moment, silence fell. Then Zinab threw her head back and laughed until her rapper almost slipped. Amanda bent over, hitting her thighs. 2 weeks? Amanda jered. Do you think you have money for wedding rice? Uh, or will you fry a carara by the roadside for us? The crowd joined in again, some

even pretending to sing wedding songs in mockery.
Ver’s tears poured freely now, her body shaking as she tried to cover her face. The humiliation was unbearable. And in the middle of all the laughter and sarcasm, Dakes stood beside her, wet, mocked, disgraced, but quietly holding on to a dignity no one else could see. As soon as Dakes walked out

of the gate, dripping in dirty water and swallowed by the cruel laughter of neighbors, Amanda’s smile turned into a wicked grin.
She spun on her heels, grabbed Vera roughly by the wrist, and dragged her inside like a prisoner being marched to jail. “I swear,” Amanda hissed, her eyes blazing with hate. This your so-called two weeks will not smell like honeymoon. It will be a nightmare. I’ll make sure of it. Her words stung

Vera’s heart like whips. She staggered behind, tears still blurring her eyes.
The moment they stepped into the sitting room, Madden Zinab leaned back in her chair, fanning herself with pride. Her lips curled into a smirk that cut deeper than any slap. “You foolish girl,” Zinab said coldly. “Do you even know the kind of disgrace you caused me out there? You stand in front of

the whole street, siding with that gutter boy, making it look like my daughter is the wicked one. Who gave you that right?” Ver dropped to her knees instantly, sobbing. I’m sorry, mama.
Please forgive me. I didn’t mean shut up. Zinab thundered, her voice like a whip. Do you think taking care of you since your parents died is a joke? Huh? Do you know how many mouths have insulted me because I picked you and gave you food under my roof? Do you think I owe you anything? Amanda,

standing tall beside her mother burst into mocking laughter. She folded her arms and sneered.
Mom, don’t waste your breath on her. Let’s train her for her new life with her street rat. Zinap’s eyes glittered with wickedness. She pointed toward her bedroom. Go now. Empty my closet. Every single cloth I own. From my wrappers to my gowns and from lace to anara. Bring them all outside. You are

going to wash them with your hands.
Not one drop of machine water. I want them scrubbed till your fingers bleed. Vera froze, staring at her with wide, trembling eyes. Mama, please. Not all. It’s too much. Did you hear me stammer, Zinabro? Every one of them. Since you claim you’re ready to stand with a poor man. You must learn to

suffer like the wives of beggars.
No rest, no mercy. Amanda clapped her hands in delight, her voice dripping with mockery. Yes. Wash them till the skin peels off your hands. That way, when your street husband finally comes to carry you away, you’ll be fully trained. After all, in his house, there’ll be no washing machine, only

dirty gutters.
Madame Zinab laughed, so loud the walls shook. Amanda, you are right. The hand washing will prepare her for the next chapter of her miserable life. Let her start practicing. Ver’s tears fell harder. She bit her lips until they bled. Her shoulders shaking as she crawled toward the closet like a

condemned prisoner.
Amanda followed her, tossing cruel words like stones. Hurry up, dirty thing. Do you think crying will save you? Crying won’t wash the clothes. By the time you finish, maybe you’ll finally look like the poor man’s wife you are meant to be. Vera reached the closet and began pulling out Zinab’s

expensive clothes one by one. Silk, lace, and velvet.
The pile grew taller and heavier until her weak arms trembled under the weight. Her tears stained the fabrics as she dragged them outside, her sobs drowned by Amanda’s wicked laughter echoing behind her. The neighbors had dispersed, but their mockery still hung in Ver’s ears.

The humiliation of the public insult mixed with the fresh cruelty of her home. She felt trapped, broken, and powerless. Still, somewhere deep inside her heart, a small voice whispered, “Endure. Endure for now, for in two weeks the story will change.” But at that moment, all she knew was pain,

humiliation, and the sound of Amanda’s voice tearing into her like poison.
From that day onward, Vera’s life in the house became nothing short of a prison. Every sunrise felt like a punishment. Every step she took echoed with mockery. Sometimes Madame Zinab and Amanda would deliberately lock the bathroom and kitchen taps. When Vera complained of water shortage, Amanda

would hiss and toss the key into her handbag.
No water for lazy beggars, she would say with a smirk. Then Madame Zinab would order. Go to the street tap. Let everyone see that you are practicing for your marriage. If you can’t carry buckets on your head, then you are not fit to be a poor man’s wife. And so Vera, once a quiet girl who stills

had fragments of dignity, would be forced to step out with plastic buckets. Her cheeks burned as she walked past the neighbors.
Some pied her, but most laughed, whispering that Madame Zinab’s stepdaughter had finally joined her class. Children would chant behind her, “Gutter bride! Gutter bride!” until her tears mixed with the sweat on her face. At the tap are the women would sneer and block her turn, telling her to wait

last.
After all, they would say, she is not washing clothes for herself, but for her madame. Vera endured it, lifting heavy buckets back and forth until her neck achd and her palms blistered. But that that was only outside. Inside the house, the cruelty grew sharper. Whenever Madame Zinab had visitors,

she made Vera her object of entertainment.
One afternoon, as wealthy friends sat in the parlor sipping juice, Zinab deliberately called out, “Vera, come here, useless girl. Kneel down and greet my guests properly. Show them how humble my charity case is.” Vera came forward, kneeling, her face burning with shame as the guests stared. Amanda

would laugh, adding fuel to the fire. Mom, don’t waste your voice.
Tell her to sing for them, too. That’s what poor people do to entertain the rich. The guests laughed at the sarcasm, and Vera’s lips trembled as tears filled her eyes. But she dared not disobey. She bowed her head lower, swallowing her sobs like bitter medicine. On another day, while Amanda

entertained her friends from school, she called Vera to the parlor carrying a tray of drinks.
The girls giggled as Amanda pointed at her. “You see this one? She will soon marry the man that smells like soaked clothes. That’s the husband she deserves.” The girls burst into cruel laughter, some even snapping pictures of Vera with their phones, mocking her like she was a circus show. Vera’s

tears dripped onto the tray.
But she balanced it silently because one mistake meant a slap from Amanda or an insult from Madame Zinnab. Her nights brought no relief either. While Amanda slept under a fan, Vera often crouched by the corner of her small room, her blistered hands shaking from endless handwashing.

Sometimes her fingers cracked and bled into the soapy water, but she kept scrubbing. If she slowed down, Amanda would storm in and shout, “Lazy thing, do you want to drink my mother’s blood instead of washing her clothes?” It was a life of mockery, a daily parade of cruelty. Madame Zinup treated

her like a stranger, Amanda, like a slave. But through it all, Vera held on to one fragile thread of hope.
She whispered to herself in the silence of night, “Just two weeks. If Dakes keeps his word, maybe, maybe this suffering will end. What she did not know was that her humiliation was only the beginning. Okay. Two days to the wedding, the dusty street grew unusually quiet when Dakes appeared at the

gate. He was dressed better than before.
His shirt was neat, his trousers ironed, and though his shoes were worn, they shone as if he had spent the night polishing them. He clutched a small nylon bag, his fingers trembling with nervousness. He knocked gently. Amanda opened the gate and froze for a moment before recognition lit her face.

Then she burst into mocking laughter. “Mom, come and see comedy part two.
The gutter man has returned.” Zinab’s voice thundered from inside. What again? She hurried out, adjusting her scarf, her lips already curled with disdain. Dakes bowed his head respectfully. His voice was low, almost pleading. I came I came to bring my bride’s dress.

I know I don’t have much, but I want Vera to look at least a little better on her day. He lifted the nylon bag carefully like it was gold. For a second there was silence. Then Zinab suddenly threw her head back and let out a sharp cruel laugh. It was the kind of laughter that pierced the ears and

cut through the sole. Amanda clapped her hands dramatically, staggering backwards as if the gift itself was a joke from heaven. A dress? Amanda screamed between her laughter.
You mean you, the beggar of the street, bought a dress for your wife? Oh my god, mom. He has killed me today. Please, somebody call the ambulance before I faint from laughing. Zinab snatched the nylon bag from his hands and waved it around like trash. So, this is what you came to brag about, and you

think this is fit for a wedding? You should have borrowed from a masquerade costume. At least that would look more expensive.
Amanda doubled over, tears rolling down her cheeks from laughter. Mom, don’t be too harsh. Maybe he saved all his gutter money to buy this. It must have cost what? Five coins. The neighbors nearby, who had already begun gathering as usual, murmured and chuckled, watching the humiliation unfold like

a stage play.
Dakes’s face burned, his lips parted, but no words came. He stood like a man carved in shame. His hands, now empty without the nylon bag, trembled by his sides. Zinab lifted the bag up without opening it. Wedding dress, huh? She’s not around right now. Don’t worry. We will deliver your royal

message to her, she said with dripping sarcasm. Then her voice sharpened like a blade. And listen carefully, boy.
2 days is all you have left to clean up your filth. After that, I don’t ever want to see you or your so-called wife around this compound again. Do you hear me?” Amanda leaned on the wall, still laughing. “Mom, don’t bother yourself. He won’t last that long. Maybe by tomorrow he will run away when

he realizes wedding costs money.
” The crowd burst into scattered laughter, feeding on the cruelty. Dakes swallowed hard, his throat burning. He bowed his head, forcing himself to whisper. I I only wanted her day to be special. But his words were drowned in Zinab’s bitter chuckle. I special. Go and save your grandma. Nothing good

comes from poverty. Go and clean your dirt before you dare to call yourself someone’s husband.
With that, she waved him off like a fly. Dicks torn slowly, each step heavier than the last. His back felt the sting of a hundred eyes burning into him. His ears rang with Sinab and Amanda’s wicked laughter, echoing like drums of disgrace.
He walked away in shame, broken, humiliated, mocked, while mother and daughter stood at the gate, laughing him to scorn as if he were not human at all. A few minutes later, when Vera stepped quietly into the living room, she immediately noticed the cruel smirk dancing on Madame Zinab’s face. Amanda

stood by her side, arms folded, her eyes glittering with mockery. Zinab’s lips curled wickedly as she spoke, her voice dripping with venom.
Your gutter husband was just here, dressed in his usual disgraceful rags. Imagine he came to gift you your wedding gown. Amanda clapped her hands in exaggerated mockery, her laughter slicing through the air. Oh, Vera, your rat husband really thinks he can make you a bride. Let’s see what your prince

from the gutter has brought for his poor wife.
She dragged the bag forward and with a theatrical flourish unzipped it. But the laughter froze in her throat. Her eyes widened, her hands trembled slightly. Inside the bag lay a breathtaking wedding gown, silk, pure white, embroidered with delicate crystals that sparkled under the light. Alongside

it, a pair of dazzling golden shoes, a matching bag, and glimmering raw gold jewelry that outshone anything Zinab or Amanda had ever owned. The room fell into a tense silence.
Zinab and Amanda exchanged glances. First disbelief, then envy. Their lips tightened, their mockery replaced by bitter rage. For the first time in weeks, the lips curved into a small triumphant smile. Tears clung to the corners of her eyes, but there was pride in her voice as she whispered softly.

“At least for once.
” My yat husband has managed to wipe the laugh off your faces. Amanda’s nostrils flared. She snaps the bag shut for the loud bang and turned to her mother. Mom, she can’t wear these things, don’t you see? If she does, she’ll outshine me. She’ll look more beautiful than me. Zinab’s expression

darkened. She snatched the necklace from the bag, holding it up to the light, her greedy eyes devouring the gold.
These are raw gold, she hissed. Better than the ones I own. No, V cannot touch them. As a matter of fact, I will keep these jewels for myself. consider it her repayment for all the years I said her useless self. Amanda smirked and tugged at the gown. And I will wear this gown. Look at it, Mom. It’s

perfect for me.
Why waste it on her? She should walk down the aisle in her rags. That suits her more. Vera’s tears fell freely now, her frail body trembling. She clasped her hands together, her voice breaking as she begged. Please don’t take them from me. Just this once. Let me have what belongs to me. Please,

Amanda. Mom, please. Her tears stained the floor.
But instead of pity, Zinab’s fury ignited. She stormed towards her, eyes blazing, and barked, “Shut your filthy mouth. What right do you have to thigh in my house? Do you think your husband bought these with his sweat? That man must have stolen them or at best bought them on credit.

Which means sooner or later people will come knocking here for payment. And when they do, guess who they’ll find? You, not us. Amanda threw her head back in cruel laughter, her voice laced with venom. Did you hear that, Vera? Not only will you be left with nothing, but you’ll also be branded the

wife of a thief. Your socalled husband will drag you even lower than you already are.
Zilab tossed the jewelry onto the table and crossed her arms smuggly. These gifts are now our Thank you for all the years I tolerated your presence in this house. You should be grateful we’re even letting you breathe here until your foolish wedding day. The shoulders shook uncontrollably as she

sobbed, her tears soaking her worn out dress.
She had dreamt just for a moment that life could give her a little dignity, that her wedding day would be hers to treasure. But in an instant, Zinab and Amanda had crushed her hope, stealing even the smallest light that dared to shine in her darkness. Amanda picked up the gown and pressed it

against her body, twirling around the room like a mock bride, her laughter cruel and triumphant. “Look at me, Mom.
Don’t I look like a queen? This gown deserves me, not that trash. Ver’s voice cracked as she whispered through her tears. Why? Why are you doing this to me? Haven’t you humiliated me enough? Zena leaned close, her eyes cold and dangerous, her voice like ice. Because, Vera, you were never meant to

shine, and I will make sure you never do.
The sound of Amanda’s laughter and Zinab’s bitter smirk filled the air, crushing what was left of Vera’s spirit. Two days later, Madame Zenab’s sharp voice pierced the stillness of dawn like a knife. Vera, Farah, you good for nothing past. What time did I ask you to wake up? This is 4:00 a.m. and

you’re still crawling like a lazy snail.
Didn’t I say 2:30? Are you deaf? Dearra jumped from the bed. She had curled herself on her body weak, her eyes swollen from the tears of the night before. With trembling hands, she whispered, “I’m sorry, ma. I was start now.” Zinab sneered. Sorry. Sorry wouldn’t make you useful. Now rush every

single dish in that kitchen. Scrub the pots in the store till they shine and mop the floors.
This is your wedding day, remember? At least let your husband meet you in your true uniform, sweat and dirt. She cackled wickedly, waking Amanda with her noise. Amanda stretched lazily and laughed. Mother, why are you wasting your breath? This girl’s husband is a gutter rat. Rats don’t complain

about dirt. In fact, dirt is their perfume.
Both burst into cruel laughter as Vera dragged her weak legs into the kitchen. She bent over, hands trembling as she scrubbed pot after pot, the water biting into her cracked palms, her tears dropped into the soapy water, but she dared not pause. Not with Zenab’s eyes darting in from time to time

like a hawk. By 8:00 a.m., sweat drenched her body, but before she could catch her breath, Zenab barked again.
Have you cleaned the abandoned store? Move. Or do you think marriage is an escape? You will crawl back here in days, useless as you’ve always been. Vera forced herself into the dark, dusty store. Cobwebs hung from every corner. Rats scured past her feet, but she knelt, coughing and wiping. The clock

ticked mercilessly toward 9:30.
Her hair was sticky with sweat, her dress filthy from kneeling on the dusty floor when Amanda suddenly stormed in, clapping mockingly. “Perfect! Just perfect, my dear sister,” the bride! She sneered, throwing a tattered, faded gown at her. “Here, wear this rag. It suits you better than the

beautiful gown you thought belonged to you.
” Vera froze, staring at the dull, torn fabric in her hands. But my gown. Amanda’s eyes blazed with mockery. Gown? You mean my gown? I’ll be wearing the dress your rat husband foolishly brought. Imagine you outshining me in front of everyone. Impossible. You’ll walk out of here in rags like the

wretched bride you are. Zenab’s voice thundered from behind her. And don’t you dare think of bathing.
If you must, then use gutter water when you get to your husband’s base. That will match your status. Mother and daughter burst into shrill laughter, holding their stomachs as Vera’s tears spilled uncontrollably, soaking the faded fabric she was forced to clutch. Her heart bled.

This was supposed to be her wedding morning, the day every woman dreamed of. Instead, she was drenched in sweat, covered in dust, wearing rags and being mocked by the very people who should have wished her well. Her voice broke in a whisper. God, give me strength. But Zinab only snarled. Stop those

crocodile tears, Vera. Remember, you should be grateful we even let you live under this roof.
Without us, you and your rat husband would both be rotting in the gutter by now. This gown, this jewelry, everything belongs to us as payment for raising you. Now, hurry. Your so-called husband will soon be here. Let him see the prize he has chosen. Amanda flung her hair back proudly, smiling into

the mirror as she tried on the golden necklace that was meant for Vera. “Oh, mother,” she said sweetly.
“Don’t you think I’ll look like a true bride today?” “Yes, my daughter,” Zinab replied with a satisfied smirk. While that filthy girl looks like the beggar’s wife she truly is. Vera’s tears came harder. Her heart shattering with every cruel word. But she quietly slipped into the faded gown,

swallowing her pain. This was her wedding day.
But in Zenab’s house, it was nothing short of a funeral for her dignity. A moment later, inside the room, Zenab’s hand shook as she struggled to fix her wig properly. Amanda clung to her mother’s rapper, her palms sweating. Then Mama Khalib, their loudest neighbor, burst into their parlor, panting.

Madame Zinab, trouble has comeu. Pack your things. Police have landed with convoy. Eh.
Zinab’s knees almost gave way. She staggered to the window and pushed Amanda aside. But what she saw outside made her lips part in shock. Not policemen, but men in black suits, sharp, polished, and holding walkie-talkies were stepping out of the first car.

The second car opened and two tore men in hoyala attires came out handing orders to the others. Behind them was a truck decorated with flowers and ribbons carrying trays of steaming food, bottled drinks, and crates of champagne. The whole street had turned into a carnival ground. Children ran

barefooted, pointing at the convoy of sleek cars that shone under the sun. Music blasted from the truck, drawing in curious neighbors who whispered and argued among themselves. “Who are these people?” one asked.
“Did a governor son get married on this street?” another replied. Some even balanced on stools to peep over the fence. “This cannot be real,” Zinab whispered, her eyes widening as if they would fall out. “Amanda, are we dreaming? This must be the joke of the year. Amanda grabbed her mother’s arm,

her voice trembling.
Mom, what’s happening? Did Did Vera know these people? Before Zenab could reply, the heavy rumble of a private jet sliced to the air above them. Every neighbor outside screamed and clapped, piling at the sky. Dust rose as the jet began to land just beside the street. Zinab and Amanda’s jaws dropped

in disbelief. The jet’s door opened and slowly, majestically, Dakes stepped out.
Not the ragged beggar they once mocked, but transformed. His hair was trimmed. His suit was pure white, glistening, and his shoes reflected the morning light. Behind him were guards and aids who bowed slightly as he passed. He didn’t rush. He didn’t falter. He walked with the kind of authority

Zenab had never seen in her life.
As he entered their compound, Zenab and Amanda forced fake smiles, their legs wobbling. “I I hope we are not in trouble,” she muttered, whispering a prayer she didn’t mean. Then before the gathering crowd and the gasping neighbors, Dakes stopped in front of them, gave a graceful bow, and said

calmly, his voice steady as a king’s, “I have come to take my bride home.
” The word seemed to pause. Gasps spread like wildfire. Neighbors screamed, some even fainted in disbelief. Amanda clutched her chest as if her heart would leap out. Zenab nearly collapsed but held onto the wall. Just then, out of the house, came Vera. The neighbors joy turned into murmurss. She

wore rags, the same torn gown Amanda had tossed at her earlier.
Her hair was untidy, her face stre with sweat, and her slippers barely clung to her feet. Yet even in her disgrace, she walked with dignity. Her trembling hands clasped together. When Dakes turned and his eyes met hers, his expression melted into one of deep pain and love.

He took a step forward, then another, until he reached her. Without hesitation, he removed his white jacket and draped it over her shoulders, shielding her from the mocking whispers. Then, lifting her chin, he smiled and whispered for all to hear. “No jewel shines brighter than my bride. Today, she

leaves this place of cruelty, never to return.” The crowd roared.
Neighbors shouted with excitement, some clapping, some crying in disbelief. But Sinab and Amanda, they were frozen. Their hearts pounding like drums of war. Their fake smiles now twisted into horror as the reality of the moment slapped them harder than thunder. Meanwhile, Dakes’s eyes glistened

with calm authority as he fixed his gaze on Madame Zinab and Amanda. He chuckled softly.
But there was no humor in it. I knew you would try this, he said firmly, his deep voice cutting through the stunned silence of the crowd. Humiliation is the only language you know, isn’t it? But you see, he turned his eyes toward Vera, who stood trembling in the ragged gown Amanda had forced on

her.
“This is not how my bride will walk into her new life.” The neighbors gasped again, some covering their mouths, others already whispering to one another in disbelief. “Was this not the same Vera?” they mocked as the family’s maid. How could such a mighty man stand here today and call her his bride?

The same man that they mocked as got a husband and rejected by almighty Amanda.
Dakes gave a sawful signal with his hand. Immediately, two elegant women in sleek designer outfits stepped down from one of the cars. Their beauty and poise silenced the murmurss. With a warm smile, Dakes gestured toward Vera. “Go with her,” he said gently, his voice softening as he looked into

Vera’s teary eyes.
“Transform her, not just as my bride, but as the queen she was born to be. If you’re ready to write Vera’s transformation scene next, I’d love to help you bring it to life.” The women approached Vera with respect, bowing slightly before taking her trembling hands. Vera could hardly believe her own

life. Just minutes ago, she was scrubbing floors and being mocked in rags.
Now, strangers who carried themselves like royalty were treating her as though she were precious. Amanda’s jaw dropped so wide she could barely shut it. This This can’t be real, she whispered, gripping her mother’s arm. Zinab’s lips quivered, the fake smile still glued to her face, though her eyes

betrayed the storm within. Then, before anyone could blink, Vera, still clutching the faded gown around her thin body, was guided to the jet.
The engines hummed softly, and in a scene that seemed plucked out of a fairy tale, the doors closed behind her. Moments later, with everyone’s eyes fixed to the skies, the jet lifted into the air, carrying Vera away. The neighbors erupted in wild cheers. Some clapped, some danced, others pointed at

Zinab and Amanda, laughing mockingly. See how God works, one woman shouted.
The stone they rejected is now flying in a private jet. From gutter water to a golden palace, another neighbor cried. Even children began to sing her name. Vera the queen. Vera the queen. But Dis did not join the laughter. He stood firm, his hands clasped behind him, his sharp gaze locked on S.

Abanamandanda.
Slowly he walked toward them, each step measured, powerful. I was told, he said in a low, commanding voice that only they could hear. How you broke her, how you mocked her, how you crushed her spirit for years. But you never realized you were training her for a throne. And now he gave a piercing

smile. Now the world will witness what you tried to bury.
Amanda’s eyes welled with tears of frustration. Her lips trembling. Zenab’s body shook. She tried to speak, but words failed her. Disus tilted his head slightly, studying their faces. their once proud expressions now smeared with humiliation.
Tears pulled in their eyes, and he simply smiled, savoring the irony. “Today,” he declared, loud enough for everyone to hear. My bride takes flight, and in no time she would return. “It will not be as your maid, but as the woman who carries my name and my crown.” The crowd erupted again, their

cheers drowning every last drop of Vinab’s fake dignity.
Zinab stumbled backward, clutching Amanda’s arm, unable to withstand the weight of the shame pressing upon her. and Dakis. He simply turned back to the convoy of cars, his smile calm, his eyes blazing with silent victory as the music from the truck rose higher, celebrating Vera, the onceforgotten

girl whose destiny no one could deny.
Two hours later, the sound of the jet toll through the skies. Children ran barefooted into the streets, clapping and singing old local songs, their innocent voices echoing joy. The elders lifted their heads, shading their eyes with trembling palms as the jet circled above like a heavenly chariot.

The crowd stood frozen, unable to breathe, unable to blink.
Was this a dream or reality? The same girl they mocked, the one Zinab treated like dirt, was returning in a private jet, the kind their eyes could only seen on TV. The jet descended slowly, majestic. And when the door was finally opened, silence swallowed the air. Then came the moment. Vera stepped

out.
No longer the trembling ragwearwearing girl with calloused hands, but a queen in her own right. She wore a breathtaking diamond studded gown that glistened brighter than the sun itself. The gems caught the light and dazzled every eye present. Her hair flowed in soft curls, crowned with a tiara so

radiant it seemed made for royalty. The air itself seemed to bow before her. People gasped.
Women clutched their chests. Men shook their heads in disbelief. Children cheered louder, their songs rising like a festival hymn. But Zinab and Amanda, it was the beginning of their deepest shame. Their knees weakened, their stomachs turned. The same girl they had mocked, tortured, and humiliated

was now standing before them as a bride no one in their generations could ever dream to become.
Unable to hold it anymore, Zinab and Amanda fell to their knees right in front of Disus. Their tears poured like broken dams, their voices shaking. Amanda crawled forward, clutching at Dakes’s trousers. Please, please marry me,” she begged desperately, her voice cracked with regret. “I was the

first person your heart chose. Don’t throw me away. I am the one you loved first.” The crowd hissed at her shamelessness.
Mothers pulled their children closer, whispering, “See what greed does to the heart. See what wickedness brings.” Dakes held Vera’s hand firmly, his grip unshakable. He looked down at Amanda with a calm, devastating smile. His voice rang like a judgment bell. In real eyesight, said, “The night Vera

came to my rescue from Madame Zinab and her daughter. I was not the man you are see that day.
I dressed in rags, covered in dust, mocked by the world. What none of you knew was that I and my friend Mark were doing a challenge. I told him, “Do you know I can find a woman who will love me even if I look like nothing? Even if I am dressed poor and broken?” Mark laughed and said, “No woman in

this world will look at you twice. No one.
” Then Mark said, “If I fail, I will give him 500 million.” The crowd gasped. Amanda’s jaw fell open. Dake’s voice shook slightly with emotion as he continued. Mark almost won. Almost? Because the humiliation I faced, the rejection, the insults, the way Zinab and her daughter Agaffa spat at me. It

nearly broke me. But then he turned to look at Vera, his eyes softening. Then Vera came. She saved me.
Not knowing who I truly was. She offered me her jacket, her wrapper to cover my shame. She took insult bullets for me. She defended me when the world mocked. She did not care about what I wore or what I had. She saw my half. She saw me. The crowd erupted in cheers. Dakes raised his voice, silencing

Amanda’s weeping. So, Amanda, no. You can never be my wife. You do not deserve me.
You were blinded by greed. You mocked a man because he had nothing. But Vera, Vera is my missing rib, the queen of my world, the one destiny wrote beside my name. He turned fully to Vera, his voice trembling now. Vera, today you are not only leaving your painful past behind. You are stepping into

the fullness of who you are meant to be.
You are my bride, my partner, my queen. Welcome, Vera. Welcome to my world. Tears streamed down Vera’s cheeks, but they were no longer tears of pain. They were tears of joy, redemption, and triumph. She nodded slowly, gripping his hands tighter, her lips trembling. The crowd thundered with cheers,

clapping, singing, praising. Meanwhile, Zinav and Amanda could no longer lift their heads.
Shame consumed them like fire. They trembled before the same crowd they once stood tall over. Amanda’s voice cracked as she whispered in regret, “If I had known, if I had known.” But it was too late. The people turned away from them, ignoring their cries, their pleas, their humiliation.

Zinab and Amanda became the symbol of wickedness, their tears falling into the dust as Vera was carried high in glory. The girl they once enslaved, the one they thought worthless, had become untouchable. And so as the sun shone on Vera’s diamond gown, it became clear to everyone present. Hello

viewers, destiny can be delayed, but it can never be denied.
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