All Chapters of The Bride They Sacrificed: Reborn To Love And Kill: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

174 Chapters

CHAPTER 151

The tension in the room grew thicker with Lucian’s last statement. Well... for the Vaughns. Because Elara couldn't stop grinning as she stared at Lucian with a loving gaze. For the Vaughns... The air felt wrong, too still, and too sharp, as if even the smallest movement might shatter whatever fragile restraint was barely holding everything together for them. No one breathed normally. Every inhale dragged, slow and heavy, scraping against the silence. Every exhale sounded too loud, like a mistake they didn't want to commit. And then... The door slammed open suddenly. There was no knock. It was a violent, bone-rattling crack that tore through the room so suddenly and so forcefully, it felt like the walls themselves shuddered under the impact. Every head snapped toward the entrance. Just who the hell opened the door like that? There stood... Nathan, Seraphina, Lisa, and Felix. They didn’t rush in despite the fire burning in their hearts. They walked in with a kind o

The Panic Truck Driver

The man couldn’t stop shaking. Not even a little. His fingers trembled so violently around the cigarette that ash kept spilling down the front of his wrinkled shirt and onto the oil-stained concrete beneath his boots. The nicotine did nothing anymore. Usually, it calmed him, usually one drag was enough to steady his nerves after a long shift or another screaming match with creditors. But now his lungs felt too tight to even inhale properly. Smoke caught in his throat. His chest burned. Sweat soaked the back of his neck despite the cool afternoon wind sweeping through the nearly empty convenience store parking lot. His heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. It only kept getting worse. Thud. Thud.. Thud... It was beating too loudly and too fast. Like his body already knew something his mind was still trying desperately to deny. He stood near the side of the building beside a flickering vending machine, staring blankly through the dusty glass windows of the tiny store while his

Cash! Fear And Run

He then booked a driver quickly to go to the location given to him. The taxi ride felt endless. Every minute stretched tighter around his throat. The farther they drove from the city, the emptier everything became. Buildings slowly disappeared behind them. Traffic faded. Crowded streets turned into long isolated roads lined with dry land and abandoned industrial structures. Silence filled the car. But his anxiety never dissipated. He sat rigidly in the back seat, knee bouncing uncontrollably while sweat soaked through his shirt despite the air conditioner blasting cold air directly at him. His eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror. Every car behind them looked suspicious. Every passing headlight made his chest tighten. What if they already knew? What if Lucian Moretti was already dead? What if this was a trap? His breathing grew uneven again. “Hey,” the taxi driver muttered cautiously, glancing at him through the mirror. “You alright back there?” The man forc

Too Late To Regret

"Grab him!" The driver sprinted blindly toward the back of the building, panic making his vision blur. His breaths tore painfully from his throat. He almost made it around the corner... Before someone crashed into him from behind. The impact sent him slamming face-first into the dirt. Pain exploded through his ribs and he screamed. “LET GO OF ME! WHO ARE YOU? I SAID LET ME GO, FUCK IT!” Strong hands grabbed him instantly. Well, too many hands. One pinned his shoulders and another twisted his arm behind his back. “GET OFF—” A brutal punch slammed into his ribs. Agony burst through him so violently that he nearly blacked out. His scream broke apart into a choking gasp. Several men held him down effortlessly while he thrashed wildly beneath them like a trapped animal. “Who are you?!” he shouted frantically. “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!” No one answered and that terrified him even more. Rough hands yanked both his arms behind his back before a tape wrapped viciously

Don't You Ever Get Tired?

BACK AT THE HOSPITAL Marjorie stepped forward too quickly, and that alone said everything. Panic was already creeping in beneath her carefully maintained composure because she could feel the situation slipping beyond her control, unraveling faster than she could contain it. The shift in her expression happened almost instantly, her features softening with practiced sweetness, her eyes glistening just enough to appear emotional without losing control completely. She looked... Fragile, heartbroken, and convincing. The kind of performance perfected over years of manipulation. She reached for Seraphina’s hands like she was searching for comfort, for understanding, for sympathy she had no right to ask for. “A-After everything…” she began softly, her voice trembling at exactly the right moments. “After everything we’ve done for Elara… I found her starving, abandoned… I begged to take her in… I raised her, protected her, loved her like my own…” Every word flowed too smoothly, too

You Are Not My Family

Lisa stepped forward again, slower this time, more intimidating. She stopped in front of Aaron, her gaze locking onto his. “You,” she said quietly. And somehow, that was worse than shouting. “Start talking.” Aaron stiffened. For a brief second, just a second, hesitation crossed his face. Real, undeniable hesitation. Then he forced his voice steady. “We didn’t do anything.” But the words fell flat. Even he didn’t believe them. Lisa’s brow lifted slightly, her expression sharpening. “Oh?” she said softly. “So she just ended up like this on her own? Why does she look more distraught now? She wasn’t like this when we left her earlier.” She didn’t need to point. The slight tilt of her head toward Elara said everything. Elara’s eyes widened and she pointed at herself. When did she look distraught? Lucian looked at her and shook his head slightly, indicating that she should just watch another show. Elara was stunned and she tried to hide her smile and gave in to the act of acting

Annabelle’s Anger

Annabelle Kingsley had always loved luxury because luxury reminded her of who she was supposed to be. Untouchable, desired, and chosen. She was not ordinary. Never ordinary. Everything around her reflected that belief with obsessive tendencies. The private spa suite occupied the highest floor of one of the most exclusive wellness clubs in the city, accessible only to elite members whose names carried enough power to open doors before they even touched them. The walls were lined with cream-colored marble veined faintly with gold, illuminated by warm recessed lighting that made everything glow softly like a dream designed for the rich. Expensive candles flickered in glass holders along the counters, releasing the scent of vanilla, lavender, and sandalwood into the air. A slow instrumental melody drifted through hidden speakers overhead, delicate piano notes blending with the faint sound of water trickling somewhere nearby. The atmosphere was designed to soothe people, to calm

I Hate You Elara

The attendants exchanged nervous glances at her sudden mood shift. Neither woman dared move or even question if they could help her with anything. Annabelle barely noticed they were still there. Her mind was unraveling too quickly. Because the public never officially learned their engagement had collapsed. In society’s eyes, Annabelle was still Lucian Hale’s future wife. This meant that everyone reading those headlines right now would immediately understand what had happened. She had been replaced publicly, humiliatingly. And not by someone powerful. Not by a woman from one of the elite families. But by Elara... That girl. That insignificant little nobody who somehow stole everything Annabelle believed belonged to her. Memories crashed into her all at once. The whispers during charity galas. The women pretending sympathy while secretly enjoying her humiliation. The subtle pity in businessmen’s eyes when Lucian stopped accompanying her to events. The tension i

Investigate Ten Years Ago

The city looked different at night. It felt colder and crueler.The glittering lights outside the tall glass windows of Annabelle Kingley’s penthouse reflected against the darkness like jewels scattered across black silk, beautiful and cold all at once. From above, the streets looked tiny, insignificant, filled with people who would never understand what it felt like to lose something that was supposed to belong to you.Annabelle stood near the floor-to-ceiling window with a glass of untouched champagne in her hand, still dressed in the elegant black outfit she had thrown on after leaving the spa.Her reflection stared back at her through the glass.Perfect makeup. Perfect hair. Perfect posture. And eyes filled with poisonous thoughts.The anger inside her had not cooled. If anything, it had become worse and more dangerous.The words from those headlines still echoed inside her skull like mockery.Lucian Hale and his wife, Elara Hale.Every time she thought about it, her chest burned

Lucian And Elara, The Sinners Of The Past

Annabelle sat in the VIP section beside two of her best friends, Vivian and Celeste, both equally intoxicated by gossip, wealth, and cruelty. Vivian leaned closer first. "So it’s true?” she asked loudly over the music. “Lucian really married that girl?” Annabelle downed half her drink before answering. “Yes.” The bitterness in her voice was impossible to miss. Celeste frowned dramatically. "I still don’t understand what he sees in her.” Annabelle laughed humorlessly. “Neither do I.” But the words hurt more than she wanted to admit. Because deep down, she did understand and that was the problem. Lucian loved Elara in a way he could never love Annabelle. And she hated Elara for it. Hated her for being chosen so effortlessly despite her poor background. “They’re everywhere online,” Vivian muttered while checking her phone. “People are obsessed with them after the accident. They’re calling them some tragic romance couple now.” Annabelle’s grip tightened around her glass again.

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