His Regret, Her Vengeance

Chapter 8

Inside the venue, Ethan pulled Vivian into a tender embrace just as the confetti cannon went off with a deafening boom, drenching them in a sparkling downpour of gilded flakes.

Amid the roaring cheers, Vivian radiated joy, basking in the adoration like a storybook princess crowned by the world.

"Wait, since when does confetti look like this?" someone in the crowd muttered, squinting at the falling specks.

All eyes shot upward as the white powder thickened, churning like a vengeful snowstorm until the entire banquet hall was smothered in an eerie, ghostly haze. The powder billowed thicker, a ghostly pall smothering the room. Laughter turned to coughs as guests stumbled back, their hands clamped over their faces.

"What the hell is this? This is bad luck."

"This is not confetti. It is freaking creepy."

Just as panic erupted, Ethan's phone rang. His butler's voice crackled through, frantic. "Sir, disaster. Miss Miller had someone steal Vivian's mother's ashes from the villa yesterday."

Ethan's blood ran cold, his heart stuttering like a stalled engine. His first thought was not rage or concern for Vivian, but a knife-sharp dread. 'Quinn knows about the engagement. Will she despise me forever now?'

He crushed the thought instantly. Drawing a razor-sharp breath, his voice dropped to ice-cold. "Lock everything down. I want Quinn found, breathing, in sixty minutes."

Watching the chaos unfold live, Quinn's lips curled in a wolfish grin. She tapped her phone, then purred into the receiver. "Congratulations, Vivian. Quite the party. Though it is a shame your mother could not attend."

A dark laugh escaped her. "So I brought her anyway. Say hello. She is watching from above."

Vivian's blood turned to slush. "Quinn," she hissed, her fists shaking, "what did you do?"

"Figure it out, sweetheart," Quinn sneered. "Now if you will excuse me, I hope you two rot in happily ever after."

The line went dead. Her engine growling, she burned rubber into the night, gone before Vivian's scream could reach her.

Vivian hung up the phone and stared at the swirling white powder filling the air. Her legs gave way as she collapsed to the floor, wailing uncontrollably. "Ethan," she screamed between sobs, "you have to make them pay for this."

"Shh, do not cry, Vivian," Ethan murmured, stroking her hair with feigned calm. "I will take care of everything."

But beneath his soothing words, turmoil raged inside him. He knew Quinn's nature all too well. She gave back ten times what she got. A cold hand clenched around his heart. 'What if she had finally given up on him? What if this time, she was really gone?'

Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and stabbed at the screen. When his assistant answered, his voice cut like broken glass. "Drop everything. Find Quinn now. And get the cemetery on the line. Vivian's mother's ashes need to be recovered immediately."

The assistant's voice trembled through the receiver. "Sir, the Brooks family just held a press conference. They announced that Miss Miller and their only son are getting married in two weeks."

"What?" Ethan jolted upright so violently his chair crashed to the floor. His grip on the phone turned his knuckles bloodless.

"She boarded the Brooks family jet ten minutes ago," the assistant choked out. "They are already en route to Granville."