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Chapter 58
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2025-05-20 22:10:15
Latest chapter
From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride Chapter 86
Camilla.I stood before the marble tomb, my fingers trailing along the etched name that stared back at me like a ghost refusing to rest.Marcus Grey.The underground vault was cold, the kind of cold that seeped past skin and bone to coil itself around your heart. The air smelled like old stone and secrets. Secrets that no one wanted to say out loud. Especially Grey.I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d heard two nights ago. Grey killed his younger brother. Killed him. And the family covered it up like it was a wine stain on a white rug, just another mess to blot out and forget.But I couldn’t forget. They said it was an accident. That Marcus died because of a fight gone too far. That Grey wasn’t the monster people would paint him to be if they knew. But if that was true, why hide it? Why not go to the police? Why bury the truth six feet under, literally and figuratively?I stepped back, folding my arms across my chest, shivering despite the warm wool cardigan I wore.“You shouldn’
From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride Chapter 85
Julia.I wasn’t even two steps through the front door when Santos lunged from the shadows like some rabid animal. I barely registered the flicker of motion before his palm cracked across my cheek.SMACK.My head whipped to the side, the sting radiating through my jaw. I gasped, not just from the pain, but from the shock. My purse slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a thud as I stumbled back.“Santos!” I cried, blinking through the sudden tears that welled up. “What the hell?!”“You think you can waltz in and out of this house without telling me?” His voice was a low growl, laced with venom and disbelief.I fell to my knees, both from fear and instinct, hands clasped in front of me like I was trying to hold myself together. My heart beat so fast I thought it might explode.“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t mean I wasn’t trying to disrespect you.”“Then what the hell were you doing?” he shouted, kicking the door shut behind him. The noise echoed down the hallway like a gun
From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride Chapter 84
Grey.There was something different about Camilla.At first, I thought it was just me being paranoid. A late night at work here, a tired sigh there, but then it became undeniable. The way she avoided eye contact, the way she slipped out of rooms like she couldn’t bear being around me. Conversations between us had shortened into awkward one-liners. Her smiles no longer reached her eyes. Her kisses felt like obligations.And that morning, I couldn’t take it anymore.I sat up in bed, staring at her as she moved around the room like a ghost. She avoided looking at me as she pulled a sweater over her head, her hair falling in front of her face like a shield.“Camilla,” I said, voice still rough with sleep.She paused at the mirror but didn’t turn around. “Hmm?”I sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to keep pretending nothing’s wrong?”She froze. Just for a moment. It was subtle, but I caught it, the way he
From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride Chapter 83
Camilla.Six months. I was six months pregnant, and I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around the fact that two tiny lives were growing inside of me. Grey had been away for a few days — business, again. And while I usually found comfort in the stillness of the estate when he was gone, today felt different. My heart was racing as the car pulled up to the private clinic. I was finally going to find out the gender of our babies.The scan room smelled sterile, like alcohol wipes and floor polish. The technician was polite, maybe a little too quiet, and she squirted the cold gel on my belly before pressing the probe down gently.“There we go,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the screen. I couldn’t make sense of the swirling shapes. They were just blobs and shadows to me. But then she turned the monitor a little, giving me a better view. “Here’s Baby A... and Baby B. Both strong heartbeats.”“And the gender?” I asked, barely breathing.She smiled faintly. “Congratulations, Mrs. Grey. You’
From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride Chapter 82
Julia.I woke up feeling like a stranger in my own skin. My body was heavy, not from sleep, but from the burden of every choice that led me here. One month. That’s how long I’d lived in this godforsaken mansion with Santos, and already it felt like I’d aged ten years.The ceiling above me seemed to lean in like a threat. I stared at it, my thoughts spiraling. Why did I sign that contract? What had I truly expected—that Santos would honor his promise, help me get my companies and properties back from Benjamin? That he’d be decent, just this once?I was a fool. A blind, desperate fool.The silk sheets clung to my legs like shackles. I sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair. I used to wear designer gowns and run boardrooms. Now I was caged, humiliated, forgotten.The door slammed open so hard it cracked against the wall.“Get the fuck out of my room!” I shouted before I even registered who it was.Santos strolled in, laughing, his arm around a bleached-blonde woman wearing little
From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride Chapter 81
Grey.People still talked about Muhammad Ali lighting the Olympic torch in Atlanta — a moment etched in memory. There hadn’t been a dry eye anywhere.Why were we so emotional? Because one of the world’s greatest athletes stood there, shaking and barely able to speak — a far cry from the man who once moved with the grace of a dancer. The man who used to float around the ring now trembled uncontrollably.We always held onto images of athletes at their peak. When a brilliant mind like Stephen Hawking’s was confined by a failing body, we accepted he could still thrive in thought. But when a body failed an athlete, it felt tragic — like clipping the wings of a soaring bird. The higher they flew, the more painful the crash.It was a Friday, and I found myself once again in Michael’s office. His official name was Dr. Robert Owens — a curious blend of Scottish and Welsh — but I’d never called him anything but Michael.He was a compact, muscular man, built like a fighter, not a neurosurgeon. T
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