El Cadáver Dela Novia Romane & Geschichten

Laurel responded, with a confused look on her face. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the articles?” Shirley inquired, pulling out her phone to show Laurel what she was referring to. “Articles?” Laurel asked, now even more confused as she took the phone and looked through the article on her boss’s phone. “THE LOST BRIDE OF THE CADDEL FAMILY IS BACK.” “AFTER SEVERAL ATTEMPTS TO FIND HER PROVED FUTILE, THE CADDEL’S CHAOTIC WEDDING BRIDE WAS SPOTTED AT A RESTAURANT LAST WEEK.”

The name still brought a wave of anger and protectiveness crashing over me. The news continued, a grim recitation of facts. "Police say Caldwell ended his life by ingesting a silver cleaner. He left a note confessing to the assault on Mr. Adrian Gabriel Raines and to the murder of Sandra Lewis, his former girlfriend. The note also revealed the location where he buried Miss Lewis' body. Police have recovered the body and are working to return her to her family for a proper burial." The words swam before my eyes. Jace was dead. He confessed. Sandra… they found Sandra.

In the third year after my fiancée, Iris Ford, falls off a cliff during a sketching trip in the mountains, I accidentally walk into her personal art exhibition. The person I have longed for day and night is right there, gently adjusting the scarf of the young man beside her. The walls are covered with portraits she once promises to paint only for me, but every subject of her paintings is that young man. Violet Bardot, Iris' best friend and the one who once helps me handle her funeral affairs, grabs me anxiously. "Graham, don't do anything rash. Iris has her reasons. After Jack Glenwood saved her, she suffered from a head injury and lost her memory. She didn't mean to stay away." I smile

Beside him stood a cemetery worker in worn boots, his hands shaking slightly as he held a shovel. “Boss,” James said quietly. “It’s here. Adrianna Rodriguez grave number 47.” Damien walked forward slowly, boots sinking into the wet soil. His breath was visible in the cold air. He stopped in front of the grave, staring at the marble headstone engraved with her name: Adrianna Rodriguez Beloved Daughter & Fiancée Gone but never forgotten. Damien’s voice was low. “Gone but never forgotten… and yet she was never gone, was she?”

He let his mind drift through old memories. The next day, dressed in nothing but a white dress shirt and black slacks, Cole was finally discovered by the cemetery's security staff. His face had gone dark from the cold, but there was a faint smile at the corner of his lips. Snow drifted down from the sky in thin, scattered flakes. Cole had frozen to death. He'd died at the side of the grave marked, "In loving memory of Isabel Cavendish, my beloved wife."

He tightened his grip on the bouquet, stepping forward to welcome his bride. Then he froze. It wasn't Violet. Instead, several men dressed in black mourning attire entered, carrying a coffin. Fury ignited within him. First the video, now this? This was his wedding. Who would dare bring a coffin here? He signaled his men to remove the intruders, but one of them stepped forward, face solemn, voice steady. "Mr. Warhol, your fiancée passed away yesterday. Our condolences." The words barely registered. Impossible. He had just video-called Violet the night before. She had smiled at him, told him she was preparing a surprise for their wedding. How could she be dead?

Their fingers had been flayed, and their faces and bodies were covered in knife scars. Their lives ended with two gunshots, and Vivian watched them die. … On a bright, sunny afternoon, Vivian donated her entire fortune and committed suicide by ingesting poison on my deathbed. In her last moments, she seemed to vaguely see me, as well as Callum and Rhiannon, who were holding Brianna's hands. We were waving to her. "It's time to come home, Vivian."

Unless Alejandro gives an OK all intruders will be shot on site. I read in the tabloids about our deaths. It stated: Family and Friends mourn death of Billionaire Mogul and Beautiful Wife. In the early hours of July twelfth twenty two Billionaire Mogul Alejandro Elsalvador King and his wife Katarina Sofia King’s bodies were found off a cliff in their car where the couple had last been seen getting into while leaving Geraldi’s Italian Restaurant. Due to the severity of the bodies that were burned beyond recognition, dental records revealed that the bodies were indeed that of Alejandro and Katarina King. A candle light visual will be held in remembrance of them.

“Because Cade lost his family, Zara. All of them.” A shiver ran down my spine. “What do you mean?” She hesitated before finally explaining. “He once had a wife and three children.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “But he lost them all in one night.” My heart lurched. “How?” Angla exhaled shakily. “They were murdered, Zara. Even his six-year-old daughter.” I felt the blood drain from my face. “Murdered?” I whispered. She nodded. “Slaughtered in cold blood. Cade went feral after that. He disappeared for two years, no one knew where he went or if he’d ever return. But then—he did.”

Selena scoffed. “This way, Magister,” one of the men, beckoned to us. We followed him to the back of the old church to the overgrown ancient graveyard. Among overturned gravestones and covered by a light blanket of snow, lay Aldine’s body. Her throat was ripped out. Hunter squeezed my hand he held. It was hard for me to see her this way, discarded like some useless plaything. The younger sister of Selena approached her, “It’s good to see you, Selena.”