All Chapters of The Twisted Wedding Night: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

I’d been staring at my phone for too long before it buzzed again.Not scrolling. Not reading. Just holding it like it might confess something if I waited long enough.When the vibration finally came, it startled me anyway.Lily.The name alone tightened something low in my chest.Alice’s burning up. I need you.That was it. No explanation. No accusations. No panic bleeding through the words—just a fact, delivered clean and sharp.My body reacted before my mind did.I was already moving, already reaching for my jacket, already heading for the door before the thought fully formed.Alice.The word landed differently than Lily’s name had earlier. Heavier. Colder. Fear, pure and undiluted, surged through me hard enough to wipe the rest of the day clean.I didn’t respond to the text. I didn’t trust myself to type anything coherent.I just left.The drive home was a blur of red lights and clenched hands. I broke every speed limit I could without drawing attention, jaw locked so tight my teet

The house felt different when we walked back in.Not quieter—because Willow and Ella were clearly already occupying the living room—but heavier, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. The familiar scent of polished wood and expensive candles hit me immediately, clashing painfully with the sterile hospital smell that still lingered in my clothes.Alice shifted in my arms, her head tucked beneath my chin, warm but no longer burning. The relief of that small mercy sat tight in my chest, fragile and precious. I adjusted my grip instinctively, my thumb rubbing slow circles against her back as we stepped fully inside.Ace’s hand brushed the small of my back—not possessive, not intimate. Guiding. Protective.I stiffened anyway.I hadn’t forgotten the silence between us. The way he’d watched me more than spoken. The way everything between us felt suspended, unresolved, fragile enough to shatter if I breathed wrong.“Where have you been?”Ella’s voice cut through the room sharply

Ace left before sunrise.I heard him moving through the house in that quiet, efficient way of his—doors closing softly, footsteps measured, the faint murmur of a phone call already underway. For a moment, lying awake beside Alice’s bed, I almost convinced myself he would come in. That he would pause at the doorway and say something—anything—about last night.He didn’t.The front door clicked shut at 6:12 a.m.The sound settled heavily in my chest.Alice stirred beside me, her fever having dipped but not vanished. Her skin was warm beneath my palm, not scorching anymore, but fragile. The doctor had warned us it might fluctuate for another day or two. Rest. Fluids. Monitoring.I brushed damp strands of hair off her forehead. “We’re okay,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure who I was reassuring.By seven, the house had shifted.It always did when Willow decided to be present.The staff normally began filtering in quietly—housekeeping, kitchen, grounds—but that morning, there was tension h

By the time I stepped out of Alice’s room, I wasn’t seeing straight.Not from confusion.From clarity.The kind that burns.Lily’s words replayed in my head with brutal precision.They sent everyone home.They knew she was sick.They made sure I was split in half all day.And that mark on her cheek, I hadn’t imagined it. I knew my mother’s hand.Controlled. Precise. Punitive.My jaw locked so tightly it hurt.I walked down the hallway slowly at first. Deliberately. Because if I moved too fast, I might do something I couldn’t undo.Halfway down the stairs, I heard it.Laughter.Light, carefree and amused, coming from my mother’s suite.Something in my chest went cold. I didn’t knock, I opened the door.They were sitting near the window—my mother poised in her armchair, Ella perched on the edge of the bed, both of them leaning toward a tablet between them.Laughing.Not politely or mildly, genuinely entertained.They looked up at the same time when the door swung inward.Ella blinked fi

I didn’t mean to see them. I swear I didn’t. I had only been passing by the kitchen, just checking on something—or maybe hoping for nothing at all—but then I caught a glimpse.And there they were.Lily, moving around like she owned the space, effortless and calm. Her hands, small but so sure, brushing over the utensils, adjusting things I didn’t even know existed. And him. Ace. Leaning in close, laughing softly, his attention entirely on her. His smile was wide, easy, unguarded—the kind of smile he’d never given me, not really.Jealousy—hot, feral, consuming jealousy—hit me like a fist in the chest. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t move. I watched as she leaned just a little too close to him, brushing against his arm, and I swore I could see sparks in the air, like some invisible current they shared. I hated it. I hated it more than anything. And I hated that it hurt so much, that the sight of them together made my stomach twist, made my hands tremble, made my vision