Chapter 209
Joanna nodded obediently. “Thank you, Grandpa. I understand.”
Alistair’s reply was gruff, his tone low and unreadable.
As he left, he made no move to correct her way of addressing him.
Joanna squeezed Chester’s hand, quietly surveying this so–called “bridal suite” meant to bring luck to the ailing. The decorations were certainly dramatic–she had to admit, that phony priest had some skill.
Deliberately shivering, Joanna pressed closer to Chester. “Chester, this will be over soon, right?”
Chester noticed the fear in her eyes and gently patted her head. She was so obviously scared, yet still trying to act tough. In the end, she was doing all this for
him.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” he whispered, comforting her.
Joanna relaxed a little, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Chester, there’s wine on the table. Let’s have a drink together.”
Chester gave her a soft smile. “What’s this? Trying to work up some courage with a
drink?”
“Of course not,” Joanna replied, feigning annoyance. “I just want to share a glass with someone I like, like newlyweds do. Even if it’s not real… If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”
Faced with such a humble request, Chester couldn’t refuse.
“Okay. I’ll drink with you.”
Joanna pretended to be thrilled, quickly fetching two glasses.
They crossed their arms, wrists entwined, and drank together.
A flush crept across Joanna’s cheeks as she nestled against Chester’s shoulder. “Chester, I really do love you,” she whispered.
Her voice was barely audible, warm breath tinged with the subtle scent of jasmine.
Chester gazed at her, caught by the softness in her words and the delicate curve of her profile. Suddenly, the alcohol hit him–his vision swirling, the world blurring at the edges.
In that haze, he finally saw the woman who haunted his days and nights.
He murmured, “Celly…”
At his words, Joanna’s nails dug sharply into her palm.
To keep up the act, she deliberately mimicked Celestine’s voice, brushing her hand over his. “I’m here, Chester…”
The day of the funeral, Celestine left the island with Gideon.
Once ashore, Gideon hesitated, concern in his voice. “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
Celestine shook her head. “You’ve helped me enough already. I’ll be fine.”
Gideon didn’t press her further.
He watched her hail a cab before turning away.
Once in his own car, the warmth faded from his expression. “Have someone keep an eye on her at the funeral,” he ordered. “Make sure she doesn’t get pushed around or do anything foolish. I don’t want her crying alone again.”
Vernon, his driver, took a moment to process. Whose funeral was she going to?
Then it hit him–the Fordham family’s latest scandal.
Vernon’s eyes lit up. The drama there would be wild. He almost wished he could see it for himself.
Celestine sorted through the belongings she’d lost during the robbery–the ones Gideon’s people had managed to recover before the Fordham family caught wind.
Her phone screen was badly shattered.
She tried powering it on. Instantly, a flood of missed calls appeared.
As the phone slowly loaded, Celestine noticed a series of texts from an unfamiliar number.
[Are you dead yet? Guess who this is.]
[Picture]
Celestine frowned and tapped the image.
13:44
Chapter 20
Front and center was a shirtless man, a woman’s hand–nails painted a garish red–tracing his neck in a suggestive caress. In the corner of the photo, you could just make out the curve of the woman’s smug smile.
Their faces weren’t visible, but Celestine recognized the pair in the photo without a
doubt.
Her hand trembled as she gripped the phone.
If Chester had even a shred of decency, he wouldn’t pull something this shameless at his wife’s funeral.
She had really overestimated these two.
Celestine’s eyes turned cold.
If that’s how they wanted to play, she’d see it through to the end.
