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Chapter 8: Never a Happy after

Author: emmz
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-07-18 23:09:03

Marion's POV

I look at my body.

Faint purple bruises still bloom across my ribs like rotting violets. A pale scar slices near my collarbone—a trophy from a night I refuse to forget. My limbs are thinner than I remember. But I’m still standing.

He didn’t destroy me.

Not completely.

“Are you ready, madam?” the designer asks, voice clipped, polished.

I nod once. No more second guesses.

He begins. The transformation is clinical, swift, practiced, like war paint before a final battle. Silk slips across my skin, chilled and precise. Gold trims coil along the edges like whispered threats. Every pin, every seam, every perfectly placed pleat is armor.

I sit still as he applies the last touch: the lipstick. Blood red. Glossy. A new color for my rebirth.

I turn slightly, catching my reflection.

The dark hair suits me. Not the honey-blonde softness Richard preferred, but a sharper, storm-colored hue. My eyes are steady, unreadable. My mouth—still.

I should probably smile more, it is my wedding
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