All Chapters of The Twisted Wedding Night: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

For a moment, I wondered if I was hallucinating.Grief had a way of bending reality, of pulling old ghosts out of dark corners and dressing them up like flesh and bone. Zane standing there—hands in his coat pockets, posture relaxed, expression almost fond—felt impossible. Like my mind had finally broken under the weight of everything it had been carrying.But he took another step toward me.And the sound of his shoes against the pavement was real.“Lily,” he said again, softer this time, like he was afraid I might bolt. “You look… different.”That was when I knew this wasn’t a dream.I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You don’t.”His smile twitched. “You always were dramatic.”The words hit like a slap.Three years vanished in an instant.I could smell the private club again. Feel the confusion. The fear. The way my world had collapsed in stages, each worse than the last. My hands shook at my sides, but I didn’t step back.“I asked you a question,” I said. “What the fuck are you doi

Nothing had gone the way it was supposed to.I sat at the edge of Willow’s bed, holding a glass of water she’d barely touched, my jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and expensive perfume, the kind Willow favored—sharp, floral, impossible to ignore. It clung to everything. To the sheets. To my clothes. To my nerves.Her ankle was elevated on a mountain of pillows, wrapped tightly, immobile. She hated it.She hated needing help even more.“Don’t hover,” Willow snapped without looking at me.“I’m not hovering,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m making sure you don’t need anything.”She scoffed. “I need competence. That seems to be in short supply.”The words stung, even though I deserved them.This—this—was not how things were meant to turn out.I’d planned it carefully. Thought it through. A minor accident. An inconvenience. Lily sidelined just long enough to miss the play. No drama. No suspicion.Instead, Willow had been the one on the floor, her

The kitchen lights were the only ones on.Everything else in the house had settled into shadow, the kind that felt heavier at night—thick with secrets, sharp with echoes. Alice was asleep upstairs, finally worn out after the long day, her stuffed rabbit tucked beneath her chin, her breathing slow and even when I’d checked on her one last time.That was the only thing keeping me grounded.I stood at the island with a glass of water I hadn’t touched, my fingers wrapped around it like it was an anchor. My thoughts kept circling the same place no matter how hard I tried to redirect them.Zane’s face.His breath too close.The way his hand had closed around my wrist like it was nothing.I told myself I was safe here.I told myself I’d handled it.The sound of the front door opening shattered the quiet.I stiffened.Ace didn’t come in quietly when he was angry. I’d learned that much. There was no attempt at softness, no effort to mask the force of his presence. The door closed harder than n

We didn’t speak on the way back upstairs.Willow leaned heavily on her cane, every step stiff and angry, the sharp click against the marble echoing like punctuation marks to a sentence that hadn’t ended the way it was supposed to. I followed close behind, my chest tight, my thoughts spiraling too fast to organize.The moment her bedroom door shut behind us, the silence exploded.“Unbelievable,” Willow snapped, lowering herself onto the bed with visible effort. “Absolutely unbelievable.”I hovered near the foot of the bed, arms crossed so tightly my shoulders ached. “He humiliated us.”“He defied me,” she corrected coldly. “In my own house.”I swallowed. My mind replayed the scene downstairs over and over—Ace’s rigid posture, his refusal to meet our eyes, the way he’d said no without hesitation. Not shouted. Not argued.Just no.That was the part that unsettled me most.“He was furious,” I said slowly. “You saw him. He believed it.”“Believed enough to rage,” Willow replied. “Not enoug

I hadn’t seen Ace around the house all day. Not really. I mean, he’d been here somewhere, moving like a ghost through rooms I’d once associated with him, but he’d barely acknowledged me. Barely even looked in my direction. It was as though I’d been transported back to the very beginning—the Ace I’d first met, the one who existed on the edges of his own home, polite but distant, careful not to let anyone get too close.And it made my chest ache in a way that was both familiar and horrifying. I hated it. I hated that he’d pulled back without a word, that I couldn’t reach him, and that I couldn’t explain myself without sounding like a liar. Because, in truth, I wasn’t lying—but there were proofs, images and moments that painted me as exactly that. And those proofs weren’t negotiable.I muttered a curse under my breath, loud enough that I startled myself. “Damn you, Zane,” I hissed, slamming my palm against the kitchen counter. “Damn you for putting me in this situation.”It wasn’t fair.