• Chapter 8

  • The boarding announcement echoed through the terminal as Navier joined the line of passengers

  • onto the plane.

  • As the aircraft lifted off, she watched the city shrink beneath her and silently whispered to herself:

  • “Goodbye forever, Lysander Vanderbilt.”

  • She felt no curiosity about what might unfold at Dusktale Villa. Gazing out the window at the passing clouds, she felt lighter than she had in years.

  • Meanwhile, Celeste’s lips curved into a smile she had practiced countless times. With elegant

  • gentleness, she pressed her fingers against Lysander’s temples.

  • “Lysander, you should stop drinking. You’ll have a terrible headache.”

  • Hearing that voice–familiar yet somehow different–Lysander froze. The whiskey bottle slipped from his hand, but he couldn’t process what was happening.

  • -Only when the bottle shattered on the floor, shards cutting into his leg, did the pain jolt him back to

  • reality.

  • His mind reeled in confusion. Was this a dream? A hallucination? Or…?

  • “Ophelia? Is it… is itreally you? You came back… I waited for you. I never stopped waiting. Seven years, Ophelia–I never forgot you.”

  • such force it was as if he wanted to merge her into his

  • very being.

  • trembled. He rested his chin in the crook of her neck as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, falling onto her

  • churning in her stomach, but she played her part flawlessly.

  • and gently patted

  • I know. I know you waited. So I fought hard to

  • 21.51

  • Ruined Bride of

  • 14.5%

  • Chapter #

  • second, Celeste feared he would

  • But then-

  • wrapped his arms around her again, his

  • back! I’m not dreaming, am I? You must’ve suffered so much. But don’t

  • that took you–my research team has found a way to cure it

  • lose you again.”

  • this, Celeste relaxed, smiling

  • Celeste’s hand tightly as

  • around the villa.

  • like a ghost’s. Ophelia really

  • long as she was back, nothing else mattered. Having her by his side was all

  • lilies in the garden myself. I remember they were your favorites. Seven years, and

  • When we were together, you said you wanted a swing in our future home. You wanted me to push

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