"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 72

More than a hundred reporters were waiting outside the Whitmore Group building.

This was the first shareholders’ meeting since my disappearance, and my wonderful husband’s first appearance in the CEO’s place.

Lucian’s car stopped across the street.

I watched Julian’s familiar Bentley arrive.

The moment he stepped out, reporters surged forward and surrounded him.

Several outlets were broadcasting live.

Miles opened one of the streams on the car’s tablet.

“Mr. Whitmore, we understand the police found Stella, but she’s been left permanently disabled. Can you comment?”

Julian wore a pale ivory suit and silver-rimmed glasses. He looked gentle, refined, utterly harmless.

Facing the cameras, he let his eyes redden.

“Thank you for caring about my wife. All I can say is that Stella is the love of my life. Whatever happens to her, I’ll stay by her side.”

His eyes shone with tears.

He lowered his head and kissed his wedding ring.

The perfect picture of a devoted husband.

I felt nothing but disgust.

Perhaps he had performed the role so often he was beginning to believe it.

“Your photograph replaced Stella’s as CEO on the company website this morning. Are you officially taking over?”

“There are rumors that you were the person behind her business achievements all these years. Is that true?”

He raised a hand with false modesty.

“We’re husband and wife. There’s no need to divide things into hers and mine. The day I fell in love with her, I promised that everything I had would be hers.”

He sidestepped the question so neatly that he effectively confirmed it.

My years of work became his achievements.

And he got to look loving while he stole them.

“You shameless bastard!”

“As for the CEO position, the company will issue a statement in a day or two. Please wait for the official announcement.”

He smiled at the cameras.

I saw the triumph he couldn’t quite hide.

Once Mr. L’s eight point four billion arrived, the position was his.

“Miles.”

Lucian lifted his chin.

“Deliver the present.”

“Yes, sir.”

Miles got out with several men carrying the large wooden crate.

Voss was indeed inside, unconscious.

I went over to Julian. I wanted a close view when he opened it.

Behind Miles, several black cars sounded their horns together.

The noise overwhelmed the questions.

Every reporter turned.

Miles cleared his throat.

“Mr. Blackwood sends his congratulations to Mr. Whitmore on successfully riding his wife’s coattails into the CEO’s office.”

Julian’s hands tightened at his sides.

That had hit a nerve.

I laughed.

Lucian was only telling the truth.

As my enemy, he knew better than anyone who had guarded that family and that company, fighting him with everything she had.

Me.

How sad that he seemed to be the only person who knew it.

Gavin eyed the crate and swallowed.

He leaned toward Julian.

“Lucian’s capable of anything. There could be a bomb in there.”

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Julian stared past Miles at the unmistakable black Maybach.

Even its license plate suited its owner: a string of arrogant ones.

He looked ready to grind his teeth to dust.

Then he noticed the live cameras and forced a polite smile.

“I couldn’t possibly accept such a generous gift. Please take it back.”

Miles clasped his hands in front of him.

“Mr. Blackwood doesn’t take back gifts. Will you accept it, or shall I open it for everyone?”

Julian’s smile froze.

The crate was set down in front of him.

He noticed the blood seeping beneath it.

After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward. Gavin tried to follow, but Julian stopped him with a raised hand.

He crouched and carefully lifted the lid just far enough to look inside.

His face changed.

For a second, I thought he would fall over.

He snapped his head up and stared toward Lucian’s car.

I savored every trace of fear on that bloodless face.

Sometimes it took a monster to deal with a monster.

Lucian was Julian’s perfect match in the worst possible sense.

“What’s the present, Mr. Whitmore? Can we see?”

The reporters pressed closer.

Julian slammed the lid down.

“Thank Mr. Blackwood for his generous gift.”

The words came through clenched teeth.

Miles smiled.

“You’re welcome. He says this is only the beginning. There will be plenty more surprises.”

Then he turned and walked away.

The reporters smelled a much bigger story.

They hurried toward the Maybach.

“Mr. Blackwood, you and Stella have always been bitter rivals. Why congratulate her husband?”

“What did you give him?”

“Can you comment?”

Bodyguards formed a wall, keeping them several feet from the car.

If Lucian hadn’t wanted the attention, those reporters would have been removed long ago.

He was letting them film.

He wanted this to spread.

The window lowered halfway.

His face appeared, beautiful enough to take the breath from a room, his presence making the crowd even more frantic.

“The woman they found isn’t Stella.”

One sentence destroyed the lie Julian had spent days cultivating.

“As for why he’s been telling everyone otherwise…”

Lucian glanced toward him and smiled lazily.

“You should ask her husband.”

Silence.

Then the questions erupted.

The window was already rising.

One bodyguard drew a gun and fired into the air.

The reporters ducked, hands over their heads.

Lucian’s car drove away as though the street belonged to him.

I stayed with Julian.

I wanted to know how he had persuaded a greedy coward like Voss to protect his secret.

Even from Fairhaven’s Devil.

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