Bloodline:Heirs

Celeste’s POV

"Thank you all for coming to our wedding anniversary, but as of tonight, my marriage to Celeste is over. ”

Those were the first words my husband, Damien, uttered the moment he stepped into the room. 

I looked at him, feeling like I had never known him before. 

Then came the second blow. 

“I am divorcing her.” 

There was dead silence.

No, my mind screamed. This is not real.

It can’t be. 

My heart pounded violently against my ribs as I forced my lips to part. But no words came out. 

Today was supposed to be a celebration of our love… 

How could Damien do this to me?!

*******

JUST MINUTES AGO

I stood before the mirror, smoothing down the shimmering fabric of my gown in the holding room. 

I was filled with a foolish hope. 

Perhaps tonight, my husband would finally learn to appreciate me, to care for me. After all, we’ve been together for two years. 

I had planned every detail of the evening, ensuring that this wedding anniversary banquet would be nothing short of perfection. 

But the one person who should have been by my side—my husband—was nowhere to be found.

I sighed, staring at my own reflection. 

He doesn’t love me. He never did.

Sadly, to him, our marriage was no more than an obligation. And every day of our married life, he made me feel it. That he’d just been forced into this union and I was nothing to him.

 I shook the thoughts away just as the door opened.

“Celeste Vaughn, my favorite friend in the world.”

Genevieve Hale stepped inside, her perfume wafting through the air. 

She was draped in a classy designer gown, every inch of her exuding wealth and refinement. Such a stark contrast to the way we had grown up—two orphan girls trapped in poverty then, clinging to dreams of a better future.

"You look... lovely," she said with a smile. I couldn’t help but notice, though, that there was something detached about the compliment, as if it cost her to say it.

“You too,” I responded in a friendly manner, pretending not to recognize her bothered and unhappy.  

“I heard about your parents,” I said cautiously. “You’ve found them?”

She nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

Her expression tightened, and seemed to refuse to express more about reuniting with the family. 

That’s weird.

However, my phone vibrated on the vanity table before I could question her further. 

I reached for it and my heart skipped a beat when I saw the sender’s name.

Auntie Eleanor. The director of the orphanage.

My fingers trembled as I unlocked the screen and read the message: 

[Celeste, I have news about your parents. Come by when you have time:)]

For a moment, everything else faded away. My heart soared with hope.  

“I see you’re still in touch with those people,” a sharp, condescending tone made me look up. It was my mother-in-law, Isadora Vaughn, looking over my shoulder with disdain. I didn’t even notice her sneaking up behind me.

“I was just—”

Isadora exhaled sharply. “Even after marrying into this family, you insist on clinging to the filth of your past. You little useless orphan.” she muttered with disgust. 

I held back my tears, not daring to argue.

The door suddenly creaked open, making me turn toward the sound. It was Damien.

“Damien, you’re here,” I whispered with relief. 

He stood at the front of the room, looking every bit the powerful CEO that he was—the man I had adored, married, and spent years trying to please. 

But I’ve never seen him like this. His eyes were colder and darker than ever. And his face… It was rigid, emotionless. It made me shudder. 

Before I could say anything else, he suddenly turned and walked away. 

"Wait, Damien..." I reached out instinctively. 

But he ignored me, going into the party with seeming purpose, his quick strides carrying him past the excited guests. 

I followed behind him, wondering what was going on. 

Something’s terribly, terribly wrong. 

Damien reached the center of the room, where a beautifully designed stage had been set. He took the microphone from the announcer and turned to face the gathered crowd.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears as he began to speak. 

What is he doing?!

"Thank you all for coming to our wedding anniversary, but as of tonight, my marriage to Celeste is over. I am divorcing her."

Whispers and gasps erupted like wildfire. 

Guests exchanged stunned glances. Some looked at me in shock, but most of their faces reflected abhorrence. 

My body went numb. I stared at him, frozen in place, unable to comprehend what I had just heard. 

This is not happening. 

Then his eyes flashed furiously toward me. And when he spoke again, every word struck me hard. 

"I won’t allow a shameless slut to be my wife,” he said in a quiet, lethal tone. 

The world stopped. I was speechlessly in shock. What is he talking about? Is this some kind of sick joke?!

Immediately, chaos broke out. Whispers and horrified stares enveloped me. 

 “No… I—”I shook my head, my lips trembling.

I wanted to defend myself, but I couldn’t even begin to understand any of it yet. 

Just then, a flicker of light caught my eye. The massive LED screen behind me had lit up and a video had started playing. 

I turned around and watched, along with everyone else. The footage was grainy, obviously secretly filmed. But I could clearly make out a man and a woman, their naked bodies pressed together in a fevered embrace. His hands gripped her bare waist, pulling her closer as she arched against him. 

Their movements blazing with heat and desire. The moans echoed in the hall that everyone could hear clearly.

Their faces were blurred, but that didn’t really matter. 

Because the woman had a birthmark. One identical to mine, right there on her chest.

"That woman in the video… It’s you, isn't it? Now what do you have to say for yourself?" Damien’s voice was cold.

A shuddering gasp tore through me as reality caved in. 

“No… No, this is wrong! It’s not me.” I tried to protest, stutteringly.

But the damning evidence kept on playing, filling the room with every obscene sound. 

The words from the woman who was enjoying the flickings descended me into hell.

"Damien Vaughn? He has no clue..." the woman in the video gasped between breathless moans. "I played him like a fool—took what I wanted, drained his company for millions, and he still fell for it." A low, sultry laugh followed, dripping with satisfaction.

No, it was fake. I would never treat Damien like this!

Just then, without warning, I heard a woman shout, "I told you she was filth!"

SLAP！

I felt it before I saw her. The slap landed hard, and a sharp sting burned across my cheek, my head snapping to the side from the sheer force of the blow.

My skin flamed, and I suddenly felt my ears ringing. Then through the haze of pain, I saw Isadora, her eyes filled with disgust as she lowered her hand.

I clutched my cheek, “That’s not me! I swear it’s not! I don’t know how…” My voice was breaking. 

“That’s clearly you,” Damien said, his cold voice making my heart jump. 

He stepped closer, not to defend me from his mother, but to tear me down even further. 

“I released your video. Will your secret lover come to save you?” he demanded angrily. “Where is he, huh? Who is he?!” 

He moved forward menacingly, making me stumble backwards. His fury had erupted without restraint, and I was afraid he might hurt me. 

“Damien, there’s really no one…” I tried to explain despite my sudden fear of him in that instance.

Then to my surprise, a sharp, choked sob pierced the air at once. 

"Celeste…" Genevieve’s voice quivered as tears pooled in her eyes. "I knew you still love him and dated him secretly. Sorry, I can’t cover it anymore. You shouldn’t betray Damien."

My breath hitched. What?!

Before I could react, Genevieve turned to the crowd, her face twisted in anguish. "She used Damien’s love against the man! She gained his trust, then transferred company assets to her lover!"

A fresh wave of gasps rippled through the crowd.

I stood there, frozen. The very person I had grown up with—the one I had trusted most—was the one shoving the knife deeper into my back.

"You’re lying!" My voice was raw with disbelief. "Why are you doing this?!"

I grabbed Genevieve’s wrist, desperate to stop her, to make her look me in the eyes and tell me why she was slandering me, betraying me like this!

But the moment my fingers touched her, she lurched backward, crashing into the towering display of champagne glasses.

CRASH! SHATTER! 

Glass shattered around us, crystal shards raining to the floor as the tower collapsed in a cascade of destruction.

Gasps turned to screams! It was in complete chaos.

I felt a sharp pain searing my palm. Genevieve pressed something cold and jagged into my hand. My fingers instinctively curled around. 

Glass. 

“Ow—”  Genevieve’s deafening scream echoed against the walls. 

"SHE CUT ME!" she wailed, grasping her leg as blood seeped through the fabric of her gown. "She did it on purpose! HELP!"

"Call the police!" someone shouted. 

My heart dropped. A pounding noise filled my ears. Then panic rapidly wrapped around me, blending with the excruciating pain of betrayal. 

And suddenly… the sound of footsteps came.

It was Damien, coming forward and towering above me. He looked calm on the surface, but his words were another story. 

"You will pay for this,” he told me through gritted teeth. 

Tears blurred my vision as I stood there in great shock, unable to reply, unable to move.