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,

  • 21:50

  • The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights

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  • Chapter 1

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

  • priceless treasure.

  • the man before her, a wave of

  • and she–a living, breathing human being–still couldn’t compete with a

  • standing there?” Lysander looked at her, his eyes cold as ice. “Don’t come to my office again without

  • She silently gathered the blood–stained documents from

  • leave.

  • hand was still bleeding, but she

  • doorway, she

  • carried an undercurrent of urgency. “Have you found anyone who

  • something, and Lysander’s voice betrayed a hint

  • suppressed anguish.

  • Why the hell can’t I find someone–anyone–who looks

  • this isn’t fair.”

  • paused mid–step, her heart twisting with a bitter

  • at her bloodied palm and the corner of her mouth

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

  • to her

  • past the window while her mind drifted to the

  • And she had loved him for a

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  • his heart had never belonged

  • Belmont, from the

  • at just twenty years old, Ophelia

  • accepting the arranged

  • Manhattan social circle knew how

  • memorial corner in his home for Ophelia Belmont,

  • as if she were still

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

  • like she was

  • her pain from his obsessive global

  • side long enough, he

  • with her.

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

  • reality had a way of

  • three times and each ended in “accidental”

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

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

  • finds out, she’ll be

  • cold. “If I had a child with another woman, Ophelia–wherever she is–would

  • weren’t accidents at all–Lysander had

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