\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 2\u00a0<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t sleep. By morning, I\u2019d sold the last thing I had left of Dad, his old watch. The money barely covered a shabby viewing room out by the edge of town.\u00a0<\/p>\n
A black-and-white photo in a simple frame, a few candles, and a bouquet of white lilies. It was the last dignity I could give her.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I sat on the floor, legs pulled to my chest, refusing to move. Hours passed, until my legs went numb.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The door burst inward with a crash. Julian stood in the doorway, Vivian at his side. His face was tight with fury. He pointed at me, his voice cold and sharp.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cLily, you did this on purpose, didn\u2019t you? You set up this pathetic memorial on the day of my company\u2019s anniversary just to spite me?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I stared at him, rage flooding through me so fast I thought it would choke me. That \u201cspite\u201d was the only family I had left.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cClear this garbage out.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Vivian wore a shocking crimson dress, a hard streak of color against the white flowers and pale walls.\u00a0<\/p>\n
She pressed herself against Julian\u2019s chest, trembling like Mom\u2019s photo had scared her.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cPoor Lily. Her mother just died. We shouldn\u2019t make this harder on her.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Her words were slick with fake concern, but her eyes locked onto mine, bright with victory.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Then she walked toward me and twisted her ankle, on purpose. She screamed and went down hard,\u00a0<\/p>\n
slamming into the memorial table.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Candles and white lilies flew, scattered across the floor. Vivian collapsed, and the tears came right on cue,\u00a0<\/p>\n
perfect, practiced sobs. She held up her hand, showing off a tiny scratch that barely drew blood.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cLily, I know you\u2019re grieving, but\u2026 why would you push me?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
Julian was at her side in seconds, pulling her up gently, his hands steadying her like she might shatter. He\u00a0<\/p>\n
didn\u2019t even look at me.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cLily, you\u2019ve lost your fucking mind! Get on your knees. Apologize to her. Now.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
I stared at him, barely able to believe what I was hearing. When I spoke, my voice came out hoarse.\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat right do you have?\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
He sneered and took a step closer. \u201cWhat, acting all righteous now? Where was all that pride when you\u00a0<\/p>\n
walked away from me for cash? You were cheap then, and you\u2019re cheap now.\u201d\u00a0<\/p>\n
The bodyguards started toward Mom\u2019s memorial.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 2\u00a0<\/p>\n
20.00%\u00a0<\/p>\n
\u201cNo!\u201d I screamed. I couldn\u2019t let them touch it. It was all she had left.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Tears blurred my vision. I sank to my knees, my whole body shaking.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Julian looked down at me, his mouth curled in disgust. Taking my silence for submission, he put his arm\u00a0<\/p>\n
around Vivian and walked out. The door slammed behind them.\u00a0<\/p>\n
The room was silent. Just me, and the wreckage they left behind.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Chapter 2\u00a0<\/p>\n
20.00%\u00a0<\/p>\n
ME\u00a0<\/p>\n
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella\u2019s storytelling style is immersive and addictive\u2014perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.<\/p>\n
The Blackened Odds by Mark Twain 2 \u00a0 Chapter 2\u00a0 I didn\u2019t sleep. By morning, I\u2019d sold the last thing […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[31],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20208","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-broken-heart"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20208","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20208"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20208\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20208"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20208"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kezpres.xyz\/novelreading\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20208"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}