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

  • priceless treasure.

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

  • of marriage, and she–a living, breathing

  • her, his eyes cold as ice. “Don’t come to my office again without my permission.”

  • She silently gathered the blood–stained documents from the

  • leave.

  • hand was still bleeding, but

  • reached the doorway, she heard Lysander

  • voice remained detached but carried an undercurrent of urgency. “Have you found

  • the other end said something, and Lysander’s voice

  • suppressed anguish.

  • hell can’t I find

  • isn’t fair.”

  • twisting with a bitter

  • bloodied palm and the corner of her

  • I did. Don’t worry, I’ll train her perfectly, and then I’ll personally deliver her

  • took a Uber to her private estates, Lakeside

  • scenery blurred past the window while her mind

  • And she had loved him for a

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  • heart had never

  • had belonged to Ophelia Belmont, from the moment

  • Ophelia fell

  • reluctantly accepting the arranged

  • circle knew how much Navier loved

  • he kept a memorial corner

  • she

  • covered their bedroom with Ophelia’s photos, whispering to

  • like she was

  • from his obsessive global search for Ophelia lookalikes.

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

  • with

  • forget about Ophelia, they would have children and live happily ever

  • reality had a way of slapping

  • times and each ended

  • was her weak constitution that couldn’t sustain a pregnancy–until her

  • pills into Navier’s food every time she gets pregnant. If she

  • finds out, she’ll be crazy.”

  • with me?” Lysander’s voice was cold. “If I had a child with

  • her previous miscarriages weren’t accidents at all–Lysander

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