Chapter 8
The package contained a termination report and a voice recorder.
Bluetooth automatically connected to the venue’s speakers, and the next moment, Sebastian’s mocking voice echoed
through the grand hall:
“Who knew sweet little Julie had such a wild side?”
Then came Scarlett’s venomous whisper: “Seb, next year when Damien takes me to Switzerland again, maybe you should
remind your dear sister-in-law about condem use. Too many abortions ruin a woman’s fertility. So pathetic..”
Finally, Damien’s icy command: “I know it’s my child, Give her a shot of fetal inhibitor.”
Dead silence engulfed the ballroom.
The livestream viewer count exploded past a million. Comments flooded in:
[Monsters]
[Rich people are disgusting!]
[That poor pregnant woman…]
“Turn it off! Now!” Scarlett shrieked, lunging at the nearest streamer. But the vloggers only shoved their cameras closer,
capturing her frantic scramble under a table.
Crack.
Sebastian’s fist connected with Damien’s jaw. “What the fuck did you do to Julie?!” he roared, landing another blow. “Your
own baby-and you poisoned it!”
Damien tackled him. “You fucked my wife while pretending to be me!”
They crashed into the champagne tower, crystal flutes shattering as they rolled across the floor. Lynch tried to intervene- only to be knocked unconscious by Sebastian’s wild swing. Scarlett reached for Damien but was flung into the wedding
cake, frosting smearing her designer gown.
The brothers fought like rabid dogs-splitting lips, cracking ribs-until Sebastian slipped on spilled liquor.
Thunk.
The sound of metal piercing flesh.
Sebastian looked down in shock at the candelabra protruding from his chest, crimson blooming across his shirt.
“Damien…” He choked, blood bubbling at his lips. “The baby wasn’t mine…but I still…cared.”
“How could you…hurt Julie like that?”
Damien collapsed to his knees, pressing frantic hands against the wound as Sebastian’s eyelids fluttered.
Chapter B
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“She…deserves…true love.”
Then-nothing. Sebastian’s body grew gradually colder in his arms, the warmth slipping away like the days of the past. A deep sense of regret filled his heart.
Damien’s final punch was to his own face.
After escaping the nightmare of the past days, I settled in a coastal town, teaching art at a small school.
The rhythm of life here soothed me-simple, yet fulfilling. One afternoon, a shy student slipped me a drawing: a mermaid
with my face.
“You’re pretty, Ms. Beaumont,” she whispered before darting away.
Tears pricked my eyes as I laughed. No designer gowns or forced smiles required here. Just genuine appreciation.
That was when I saw him.
Damien stood frozen at the school gates, his black suit hanging like a shroud. The white carnation pinned to his lapel told
me everything.
As he gazed at my serene smile, he seemed frozen in place, unable to take a single step forward.
I didn’t send him away. Just walked toward the shore, letting him follow-this man who’d once made me chase him through endless gilded corridors.
Yet in this moment, no satisfaction ever came to my heart.
When we stopped at the water’s edge, I asked quietly:
“Have you come with the divorce papers?”
He finally looked up-and his gaze snagged on my flat stomach.
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