"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 89

Pearl ran after the car.

“Mr. Blackwood! It’s Pearl! I need to tell you something. It’s about my sister. About Stella!”

Me?

What was she planning now?

To my surprise, Lucian ordered the driver to stop.

Why would someone that intelligent believe her?

My photograph had been on a wall of victims.

I was dead.

He got out and walked toward her.

A light rain had begun.

Cold threads of water passed through my spirit.

Pearl wore a thin coat over a white slip dress. She shivered in the wind, looking fragile and pitiful.

Her makeup was light. My stolen face looked especially delicate beneath the streetlights.

She looked up at him, bit her lip, and let a little hurt mingle with the invitation in her eyes.

“I received a video of Stella. It frightened me. Julian isn’t here, and I didn’t know who else to ask. I only came back from abroad recently. I don’t know many people.”

Her voice softened.

“You were the only person I could think of. I’m sorry for coming without an invitation. Please don’t be angry.”

She tentatively rested a hand on his arm.

He didn’t throw it off.

Encouraged, her fingers moved higher and stroked him.

He still didn’t stop her.

His eyes remained fixed on her face, examining every inch.

He wasn’t rejecting the flirtation.

He seemed to be cooperating.

Disappointed, I looked away.

Perhaps the fireworks had given me an expectation I had no right to hold.

Pearl had arrived just in time to slap some sense into me.

Only Lucian knew who those fireworks were really for.

When I was alive, I had been rational about everyone except Julian.

Now I was dead and apparently determined to embarrass myself over Lucian, too.

Had I learned nothing?

“The video,” he said.

“It’s on my phone. I’ll show you.”

She took it from her little bag and pressed the screen.

It remained black.

“Oh. It’s dead. Could I charge it inside? Only for a minute. It’s so cold out here.”

She rubbed her arms.

A gust of wind made her lower her head and sneeze softly.

When she looked up, her nose was red and her eyes were wet and pleading.

The red beauty mark at the corner of her eye, the one that belonged to me, completed the effect.

Innocence on the surface.

Invitation underneath.

Apparently, it worked on Lucian.

He looked at her for two more seconds, then turned toward the house without a word.

Not refusing was permission enough.

Delight flickered in her eyes.

She followed quickly.

Miles fetched an umbrella from the trunk and held it over Lucian.

His disgust toward Pearl was obvious.

When she tried to move closer, he neatly stepped between them.

Even Miles understood she wanted something.

Why was Lucian falling for it?

I followed, watching her and the phone in her hand.

She claimed to have received a video of me.

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Julian was still being questioned at the police station. He had enough problems of his own.

Who had sent her?

Vivian’s face came to mind.

I clenched my hands.

What was that poisonous woman planning?

Inside, Pearl removed her coat immediately.

The silk dress beneath it had been chosen carefully.

With the coat on, it looked ordinary enough.

Without it, the fabric clung like a second skin, displaying every curve.

She moved beside Lucian with the sinuous grace of a snake and bent to plug in her phone.

The neckline wasn’t low, but it was loose.

As she leaned forward, it fell open.

I stared in disbelief.

So that was why she was here.

The video was an excuse.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

She covered her chest with a show of embarrassment and looked at him through her lashes.

“My coat is soaked. Could I borrow something of yours? I’ll wash it before I return it. I promise.”

I sat across from them.

My hand tightened uselessly around the sofa arm.

Borrowing clothes was another test.

How much did he like her?

I had to admit his attitude toward her was different.

He didn’t look at her the way he looked at other women.

Pearl knew it, too.

Tonight, she had come to him willingly, and he had let her inside.

If he lent her clothes, the next request might be to stay.

I closed my eyes.

Fear and helplessness rose in me.

If she got into his bed, perhaps nobody would ever uncover the truth about my death.

“Who gave you the courage to tell my people I invited you?”

Lucian’s voice cut through the room.

The temperature seemed to fall.

He ignored her request entirely.

His eyes rested on her as though she were dead meat on a board.

Now I understood.

Rosehaven was heavily guarded. She had reached the main gates by lying to his men.

Everyone knew he had spent a fortune buying all of her paintings and kept them here.

Most people thought she was the woman he admired.

That was how she had talked her way through.

Her smile froze.

His gaze frightened her.

“I was worried about Stella. I needed to see you quickly and ask for help. That’s why I said you’d invited me…”

He smiled.

There was no warmth in it.

He didn’t believe a word.

“Since you don’t understand, let me ask another way.”

He stood and approached.

The pressure of his presence forced her backward.

“Who told you that wearing this dress, using that face, and stopping my car would make me soften?”

His eyes turned vicious.

He caught her by the throat and slammed her against the wall.

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