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.

  • at the man before

  • breathing human being–still couldn’t compete with a photograph.

  • standing there?” Lysander looked at her, his eyes cold as ice. “Don’t come to my

  • nothing. She silently gathered the blood–stained documents

  • leave.

  • but

  • she reached the doorway, she heard

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

  • person on the other end said something, and

  • suppressed anguish.

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

  • this isn’t

  • heart twisting with

  • her bloodied palm and the corner

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

  • her

  • scenery blurred past the window

  • And she had loved him for

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  • never belonged to

  • to Ophelia Belmont, from the moment she

  • just twenty years old, Ophelia fell ill and never recovered.

  • Lysander became despondent, only reluctantly accepting the arranged marriage with Navier as part of a family alliance,

  • Manhattan social circle knew how much Navier

  • when he kept a memorial corner in his home

  • she were

  • covered their bedroom with Ophelia’s photos,

  • she was listening.

  • his obsessive global search for

  • side long enough, he would

  • love with her.

  • forget about Ophelia, they would

  • of slapping her in the

  • and each ended in “accidental”

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

  • slipping abortion pills into Navier’s food every time she gets

  • she’ll be

  • cold. “If I had a child

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

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