The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

Chapter 11

  • Chapter 1

  • After five years of marriage, Navier Armstrong wanted a divorce.

  • When she arrived at the office, she spotted the secretary heading toward her husband Lysander

  • Vanderbilt’s office with a stack of documents.

  • Using the excuse that she was heading the same way, she took the stack of papers, discreetly slipping the divorce agreement among them.

  • As she handed over the documents, Lysander was on the phone.

  • Without even glancing at them, he signed everything–including the divorce agreement.

  • Navier stared at his signature on the divorce papers, momentarily lost in thought.

  • So this is it. It’s finally ending.

  • Just as she reached for the documents to leave, her elbow accidentally knocked over a delicate picture frame on his desk. It toppled over, glass shattering across the surface.

  • The smiling girl in the photo was now partially obscured by broken glass.

  • It was Ophelia Belmont, Lysander’s deceased first love.

  • “What the hell are you doing?!”

  • Lysander abruptly ended his call, his voice snapping with fury.

  • He shot to his feet and roughly shoved Navier aside.

  • She stumbled backward and her palm landing on shards of glass. Sharp pain shot through her hand, but she bit her lip, refusing to cry out though tears welled up involuntarily.

  • Looking down, she watched blood dripping from her fingertips, staining the documents on the floor.

  • Lysander seemed oblivious to her pain.

  • He knelt down, carefully picking up the photograph and gently brushing away the glass fragments,

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  • Chapter 1

  • terrified of causing the slightest damage. His movements were tender and focused, as if handling a

  • priceless treasure.

  • turned to ice. She stared at the man before her, a wave of indescribable desolation washing

  • of marriage, and she–a living, breathing human being–still couldn’t

  • there?” Lysander looked at her, his eyes cold as ice.

  • nothing. She silently gathered the blood–stained documents from the floor

  • leave.

  • but she couldn’t feel

  • the doorway, she heard Lysander

  • of urgency. “Have

  • the other end said something, and Lysander’s voice betrayed a hint of barely

  • suppressed anguish.

  • It’s been years! Why the hell

  • this isn’t fair.”

  • paused mid–step, her heart twisting

  • at her bloodied palm and the corner of her mouth curved into

  • can’t make it? Well, I did. Don’t worry, I’ll train her perfectly, and then

  • a Uber to her private estates, Lakeside

  • blurred past the window

  • up together–childhood friends. And she had loved him for a decade.

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  • never belonged

  • belonged to Ophelia Belmont, from the moment she walked into his life.

  • twenty years old, Ophelia fell ill and

  • only reluctantly accepting the arranged

  • circle knew how much Navier loved Lysander.

  • tolerated it when he kept a memorial corner in his home for Ophelia Belmont, leaving fresh

  • she

  • it when he covered their bedroom with Ophelia’s photos, whispering to them

  • like she was

  • his obsessive global search for Ophelia lookalikes.

  • stayed by his side long enough, he would eventually turn around and fall

  • with

  • about Ophelia, they

  • way of

  • been pregnant three times and each

  • constitution that couldn’t sustain a pregnancy–until her third miscarriage, when she accidentally overheard a conversation between

  • food every

  • she’ll

  • cold. “If I had a

  • was when she realized her previous miscarriages weren’t accidents at all–Lysander had deliberately induced them!

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