After He Left Me to Burn, I Shot Him

Chapter 7 It Is Yours

The bridal shop erupted into noise.

"Buy it? That dress is nine figures—their crown jewel. And he just casually bought it for her?"

"Guess no one's touching Mr. Dayes' money or power."

Whispers from staff and customers buzzed in the background. Amber's face lit up, blushing as she pressed a kiss to Watson's cheek.

"Thanks, Mr. Da—I mean, Mr. Hayes." She deliberately stumbled over his name, making sure Vanessa caught the slip.

Then, as if she'd already won, she tipped her chin up, looking down at Vanessa.

Her voice dripped with fake sweetness. "Oh, I don't know why Mr. Dayes decided to buy this for me. Since you like it so much, Ms. Pearson, do you want me to let you borrow it?"

Amber waited for a flicker of defeat or jealousy. Instead, Vanessa just smiled and nodded. "Sure."

Before Amber could react, Vanessa grabbed scissors and sliced straight through the gown, shredding it into ribbons.

The scissors clattered to the floor. Amber's reflection flashed in the metal—shock and hatred she couldn't hide.

"Save the act," Vanessa said flatly. "Hope you learned something today."

As she turned to leave, she caught the tears spilling down Amber's cheeks—and the ice in Watson's stare.

After changing out of her dress, Vanessa stepped outside to find Watson waiting by his car.

She turned to walk away. But he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

He stated, "What more do you want? Amber's so sweet; she even offered to let you try it on first, even though she loved it. And you destroyed it. Your father obviously didn't teach you manners before he died. You like throwing your weight around? Fine. Your cards are suspended starting today. Let's see how you bully her now."

His grip crushed her slender wrist. But the pain there was nothing compared to the ache in her chest.

The power she'd once handed him had become a blade—aimed straight at her.

"Me?" Vanessa laughed bitterly, lifting her gaze. "Amber's the one who weaponizes tears. She killed my father. She lives in my house. She spends my money. She stole every person who ever loved me."

A tear slipped down her cheek and hit his hand—burning.

Vanessa always smiled. He'd never seen her break like this.

Beneath her sharp, cold exterior, she was extremely vulnerable.

"Your father's death..." His voice came out rough. "That wasn't her fault."

Vanessa's laugh was cold.

'Of course it isn't her fault. It is yours, Watson.'

"Get away from me. You don't get to question me." She yanked her wrist free—his grip had loosened—and refused to even touch the car he'd touched. She walked to Pearson Villa alone, under the pale moonlight.

Tears streamed down her face. All the grief she'd buried broke loose under his accusations.

She'd barely made it ten minutes when a cloth clamped over her mouth and nose.

Within minutes, her struggles grew weaker, and she slipped into unconsciousness.