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Her Daughter’s Funeral, Their Wedding Night

Her Daughter's Funeral, Their Wedding Night

Author: Ying Luo
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Chapter 1 

Word Count: 1313    |    Released on: Today at 11:17

e funeral home yielded to

the thin fabric of her coat, biting into her collarbone.

l. Too small to hold a four-year-old girl who loved strawberry ice cream and chasing butterflies. The ceramic was

. She hadn't eaten in four days. Her stomach was a hollow, aching cav

king lot was completely empty. There were no cars. No mour

reech of tires tearing against pavement echoed in her ears. The

g on the road like crushed diamonds. She saw Delphine Vance standing next to the crumpled hood of her luxury SUV. Delphine hadn't had

Montgomery I

e sound of Donovan's frantic footsteps. She had been kneeling in a

dying child on the asphalt. He had rushed straight to Delphine, wr

of Donovan's tailored trousers, begg

rawling into the broken glass. The glass had sliced her palms open, but the physic

s had dried up days ago. Her tear ducts felt like sandpap

ent. She walked across the two-lane highway, ignoring the blare of a passi

of her, a massive expanse of chur

against her bare soles. She didn't care. She walked toward the sh

wed her head and pressed her dry, cracked li

ispered. Her voice was a ra

s. The cold was a physical shock, a thousand needles driving into her

he undertow pulled at her, trying to drag her back to

her legs like lead weights. She didn't stop. She kept her eye

ng into her waist. The impact knocked the breath out of her lun

fighting the current. She let her

k filled her ears, drowning out the sound of the wind. She opened her mouth, an

he stained-glass windows of a magnificent Got

that fit his broad shoulders perfectly. He looked down at Delphine Vance. She was br

pit of his stomach. He looked at Delphine's smile, but he felt no

h the vaulted ceilings. "Do you, Donovan Montgomery IV

His throat felt dry. He fo

of the cathedral slammed o

en Hayes, was sprinting down the center aisle. Linden's face was t

pews. Delphine turned, h

red the priest. He ignored Delphine. He grabbed Donovan's ar

van's ear. "Sir. The police just called. They fo

ed beating for one agonizing second. The

was holding slipped from his grasp. It hit the marble floor

t, her manicured fingers brush

t him. He shoved her hand away. He didn't say a word. He turned

g on the marble, bursting through the cathedral doors into the blinding s

ra ga

uth open wide, sucking in massive gulps of air. Her lungs burned as if they were s

roat. It was dry.

h a small, square window, illuminating a cramped room.

erlife. This was her old bedroom in the se

ere smooth. The jagged, ugly scars across her palms from the broke

against her face, feeling the he

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Her Daughter’s Funeral, Their Wedding Night
Her Daughter's Funeral, Their Wedding Night
“For years, Elenora lived as the pathetic, loyal shadow of the Montgomery family, desperately craving a single glance from the billionaire heir, Donovan. That blind devotion shattered the day Delphine Vance's luxury SUV slammed into Elenora's four-year-old daughter, Poppy. Elenora knelt in a pool of blood on the asphalt, screaming for help as Delphine stood by the wreckage with a chilling smirk. When Donovan frantically sprinted onto the scene, Elenora thought they were saved. Instead, he ran right past the dying child to wrap his arms around the completely uninjured Delphine. Elenora grabbed the hem of Donovan's trousers, begging him to save her little girl. "Please. Save her. Save Poppy." He shoved her away so hard she sprawled into the shattered glass, slicing her palms open as she listened to Poppy take her last, gurgling breath. With no one to mourn her daughter, a hollow Elenora walked into the freezing Atlantic Ocean, clutching a tiny white urn until the dark water swallowed her whole. As the saltwater flooded her lungs, her sorrow morphed into a suffocating, violent hatred. Why did she waste her life groveling for a monster who stepped over her dying child? But the afterlife never came. Elenora gasped, her eyes snapping open in her old servant's quarters to find her hands unscarred. She looked at the date on her phone and realized she was seventeen again, five years before the crash. Tearing up the diaries of her past obsession, her eyes turned as cold as the ocean. This time, she wouldn't be their prey; she was going to build her own empire and make them pay.”