"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 90

Her back struck the cold wall with a dull impact.

Pain twisted her face.

Tonight, Lucian seemed angrier and more volatile than I had ever seen him.

But it was his words that stunned me.

That face.

That dress.

Make him soften.

I looked at Pearl, her face reddening as she struggled for breath.

At the white slip dress.

An old memory shook off the dust I had buried it beneath.

A humiliation I had almost forced myself to forget.

I had worn a similar dress on my eighteenth birthday.

Vivian gave it to me.

I was so surprised by the gift that I changed without questioning it.

But it was too tight. Too revealing.

I wanted to wear a coat.

She refused.

“You look beautiful. We’re only having dinner in a private room. Just the four of us. There won’t be any strangers.”

Warmth from her was so rare.

I didn’t want to upset her.

So I endured my discomfort and went to the restaurant in the dress alone.

Only Vivian and I were in the private room.

“Julian’s on his way. He’ll be here soon.”

I believed her.

She poured me a glass of juice.

I drank it.

Soon, my head began to spin.

She said she was going outside to meet Richard and Julian.

She didn’t come back.

The dizziness worsened.

Then the door opened.

A man came in, wearing a mask.

My vision was blurred, but I could make out a bald head and a heavy body.

A stranger.

Nothing good in the way he approached.

Behind my back, I closed my hand around a fork.

“You have the wrong room.”

A laugh came from beneath the mask.

It made me sick.

“No mistake, sweetheart. I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

He lunged toward me.

“I’ve booked a room upstairs. Come on. Let’s get you some rest.”

I understood.

This was the birthday dinner Vivian had arranged.

She was giving me to him.

I closed my eyes.

Something inside me sank into freezing darkness.

Nobody was coming to save me.

I had to save myself.

My body felt weak.

I drove the points of the fork into my palm.

Blood welled out.

The pain cleared my head.

But the drug was still taking effect.

I would have one chance.

I forced myself not to struggle.

Waited through the nausea.

He relaxed, lowered his mask, and brought his foul-smelling mouth toward mine.

I moved.

With every bit of strength I had left, I drove the fork into his eye.

He screamed.

I stumbled out.

Vivian had chosen a secluded room, away from the others.

I followed my memory of the corridors and ran.

“There! The little bitch! Catch her! I’ll fucking kill her tonight!”

Footsteps pounded after me.

I couldn’t stop.

Rain began to fall.

I lost my shoes and kept running, bare feet striking cold, hard ground.

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At last, I saw a narrow exit.

I pushed through.

Headlights approached.

“Help! Please help me!”

I staggered toward the car.

Against the glare, I couldn’t even read the license plate.

The drug dragged harder at me. My legs barely held.

Behind me, the men were coming.

The car was my only hope.

I fell to my knees in front of it.

Tears ran down my face.

“Please. Save me.”

It stopped.

The rear door opened.

A man approached. All I could see were long legs in tailored trousers.

With my bleeding hand, I caught weakly at the fabric.

I looked up.

I couldn’t make out his face.

“Please…”

That was the last thing I remembered.

When I woke, I was in my own bedroom at the Whitmore house.

Julian sat beside the bed, looking desperately worried.

I threw my arms around him.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

He told me a kind stranger had found me unconscious beside the road and taken me to a hospital.

He asked why there were such deep fork wounds in my hand.

Then Vivian appeared in the doorway.

No guilt.

Only cold disgust.

As though I had disappointed her by refusing to cooperate.

That was the day I gave up hoping she might love me.

But I didn’t tell Julian the truth.

If he had to choose between his mother and me, I believed he would choose her.

I didn’t confront Vivian again, either.

A powerless person’s accusations only sounded more ridiculous the angrier she became.

In that house, I had no voice.

From that day, I worked harder.

Nobody could protect me.

Not even the man I loved.

I had to become strong enough to protect myself.

For years, I refused to remember that night.

But sometimes, in nightmares, the heavyset man chased me like a demon.

Then a light appeared.

I ran toward it.

Someone came to meet me and stood between me and everything behind me.

I never saw his face.

But I felt safe.

Now the figure from my dreams slowly became the man in front of me.

Lucian.

He was the stranger who had saved me.

Through my tears, I reached for the edge of his coat.

“It was you.”

Before I ever knew him, he had already known me.

I laughed and cried at once.

Something in my chest ached until I could hardly bear it.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

There would never be an answer.

Pearl’s face had turned purple.

She knew she couldn’t fight him. Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp.

The same trick she had used at the gallery.

Vivian had helped her then.

Tonight, Lucian had no intention of indulging her.

He released her.

She hit the carpet hard.

Still, she kept her eyes shut.

Lucian looked at Miles.

He went to the kitchen and returned with a basin of ice water.

Then he emptied it straight over her.

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