Chapter 9 The Wedding Night
871 Words
The Other Side — Greenwich, Connecticut.
Genevieve walked toward Edward in her Vera Wang wedding gown, did a little spin.
"Edward. Don't I look beautiful?"
Edward looked at her, but in his mind's eye he saw someone else in a Carolina Herrera wedding dress.
Vivienne never wore much jewelry. Apart from the pendant he'd given her and the wedding band, she never wore anything else.
Genevieve, on the other hand — there was always Cartier and Tiffany on her.
Genevieve and Vivienne did look a little alike. But she never had Vivienne's quiet grace.
Coming back to himself, Edward said, dismissive, "That dress isn't yours. Don't touch her things."
Genevieve's smile froze at the corners of her mouth. "Her things? Everything she had was from you. If I hadn't left back then, four years ago, the one marrying you would've been me..."
She didn't get to finish. Edward's face went dark.
"Enough."
If Genevieve hadn't come back to the States a few months ago, if they hadn't run into each other, if he hadn't gotten drunk and gotten her pregnant by accident, he wouldn't be doing the right thing by her now.
His family was pressing him hard. They wanted Vivienne to have a second child, a boy.
But her body had been wrecked giving birth to Emma. She'd never be able to have another kid.
Edward had no choice. He had to divorce Vivienne for now, wait until Genevieve had the baby, and see.
"You'd better pray that baby is a boy. Otherwise, even after we marry, I'll divorce you." He warned her, word by word.
Hearing this, Genevieve's face went pale.
She knew. In this man's heart, she had no real weight anymore.
She was only holding on by the baby in her belly.
Thinking of this, Genevieve put her hand on her swollen belly. "I had it checked. It's a boy."
Edward looked away, didn't look at her anymore.
Thinking of the mother and daughter at the Cold Spring Estate, his mood soured.
Locking them up — apart from keeping them from ruining the wedding — was also to teach Vivienne a lesson.
Stop her from running her mouth all day about how she'd die if he divorced her. Stop her from filling the kid's head with that nonsense.
He'd locked them in there with G4S guards outside. Who would hurt her?
Ridiculous.
Boom —
A c***k of thunder split the night, in November. Edward felt it land somewhere in his chest, and he couldn't sit still.
He rubbed his breastbone. Something was leaking out of him, like sand in his fist, no matter how hard he squeezed.
He walked out onto the veranda at the Greenwich house and looked up at the sky.
The sky was full of stars tonight. Where did that thunder come from?
He thought, suddenly, of the night Emma was born. Same kind of weather.
Just then, his phone rang.
Edward picked it up. On the line was his executive assistant.
"Mr. Hale, the G4S detail at Cold Spring says they smell something coming from inside the house. Should I have them go in and check?"
Edward's eyes narrowed. He'd had them locked up this long — Vivienne still hadn't gotten that wild child under control?
Thinking of Emma saying Vivienne was sick.
Was she not lying after all?
A heavy weight pressed on Edward's chest. He told the phone, "Get Dr. Pierce. Go over together."
He hung up. He didn't bother with Genevieve in the next room. He strode out.
Cold Spring Estate.
Edward, with the bodyguards and Dr. Pierce, unlocked the wrought-iron gates and came in.
The yard was noisy with people. The house was dead silent.
Edward's face was hard as he opened the front door. The foyer was empty, cold. No one in sight.
Then — Emma, crumpled on the veranda floor.
He frowned, snapped, "Emma Hale. What kind of posture is that? Get up."
This kid had always been wild. Now she was worse.
But his words didn't wake the little shape on the floor.
Dr. Pierce noticed something wrong and rushed over to check.
A second later, his face changed. His legs buckled, almost gave out.
"The child... she's not breathing."
The bodyguards who'd come in behind went pale.
Edward's composure broke. He strode over fast.
And then he saw. Emma — the chubby little girl he remembered — was skin and bones, barely recognizable.
Her pants were caked with filth. Her whole right leg was bent out of shape, like someone had snapped it.
Rage boiled up in Edward. His eyes went bloodshot.
He'd only locked that woman and the kid in the house, not let them go out. She'd actually let the kid starve to death!
He roared toward the master bedroom, "Vivienne!"
No one answered.
A chill ran up his spine. He didn't care about the filth. He scooped Emma up and strode toward the master bedroom.
His voice broke through the cold foyer. "Vivienne, do you have a heart at all? How could you be this cruel?"
A bodyguard helped push the door open. A wave of rot hit them.
Looking over at the bed, the bodyguard went white. "Mrs. Hale... she's dead."
- Writer
