My Dad's Ashes and Her Darn Dog

Vanessa Summer, the princess of Capital City and my best friend who had been spoiled since childhood, laughed in anger. She stepped in front of me and said in a firm voice, “Who do you think you are? You keep calling people nobodies. Nora Quinton is Ethan Stanford’s legally married wife. Who are you pretending to be?”

When Vanessa revealed my identity, I expected the woman to show a dramatic reaction. She only paused for a moment before sneering. She pulled a marriage certificate from her Hermès bag and tossed it at my feet. “Open your eyes and look. What is on it?”

The photo on the certificate stung my eyes.

Ethan wore a neat suit and smiled gently. The woman beside him was Layla Lewis, the arrogant and domineering woman standing in front of me.

My mind went blank as I stood frozen.

“Do not ask why I carry my marriage certificate. I have seen many women try to climb the social ladder and pretend to be Mrs. Stanford.”

Her gaze shifted to the urn in my arms. Her eyes turned cold. “I only wanted you to compensate my dog with that stupid urn. I did not expect you to be bold enough to pretend to be Mrs. Stanford. You are asking for death.”

She waved her hand, and several bodyguards in black suits surrounded us. “Beat them. Let them learn what happens when they pretend to be Mrs. Stanford.”

“Let us see who dares,” Vanessa shouted, pulling me closer.

We did not have time to react before the tall men closed in.

I held the urn tightly. Vanessa rushed forward and shielded me from most of the blows.

In the chaos, one bodyguard pulled a sharp fruit knife from his pocket and slashed Vanessa’s arm.

“Ah!” Vanessa cried out as blood soaked her sleeve.

The situation grew worse by the second. I shouted, “Do you know who she is? She is Vanessa Summer from the Summer family of Capital City. I am Nora Quinton, Ethan Stanford’s wife. Stop now, and there will still be room to talk.”

I had barely finished speaking when Layla burst into loud laughter, as if she had heard the funniest joke. “Have you lost your mind from the beating? You still dare to call yourself Mrs. Stanford?”

She stopped laughing, grabbed my hair, and slammed my head against the ground.

Thump.

My forehead hit the cold floor, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Layla did not stop. “Shameless woman. I will teach you to watch your mouth. If you say you are Ethan’s wife again, I will kill all of you.”

A bodyguard stepped on Vanessa’s hand, yet she still yelled, “I dare you to call Ethan right now. Make him come here. Make him tell us who his wife is.”

Her words struck a nerve. Layla grew even angrier.

“You want to seduce my husband even when you are about to die? Beat her to death.” She stomped on Vanessa’s arm.

“Ah!” Vanessa screamed.

Another fist came down on her. She curled up on the ground, her cries growing weaker. I knew she would die if this continued.

In a split second, I broke free, grabbed a brick from the side, and struck Layla on the head.

Bang.

Layla screamed, turned around, and stared at me in shock.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. The caller ID showed Ethan.