The funeral in the rain
617 Words
The city woke up beneath heavy rain the next morning.
Dark clouds covered the skies, matching the tension sitting heavily inside Alexander Vaughn’s chest.
He hadn’t slept all night, not after the accident.
He still couldn't believe that Vivian is dead.
"Sir"
Alexander looked up as his assistant as he entered the penthouse.
" There's a problem"His tone immediately turned colder.
“What is it?”
The assistant hesitated slightly before placing a tablet on the table.
“The media found out about your canceled contract with Roswell Group.”
Alexander’s jaw tightened instantly.
“And?”
Before the assistant could answer—
The television suddenly flashed with BREAKING NEWS headlines.
TRAGIC ACCIDENT CLAIMS LIFE OF BUSINESS HEIRESS VIVIAN LAURENT.
Alexander froze completely.
The world around him went silent.
Slowly, painfully, he turned toward the television screen.
A picture of Vivian filled the screen... beautiful, elegant, smiling gone.
According to reports, Vivian’s car had lost control late last night during the heavy rain and crashed off the bridge outside the city.
No survivors.
Alexander’s fingers tightened slowly against the edge of the table.
“No…”
For the first time in years, genuine shock cracked through his cold composure.
The assistant lowered his head carefully.
“Sir… I’m sorry.”
But Alexander barely heard him.
His mind replayed their last conversation over and over again.
“Alexander, please listen to me…”
And he had hung up on her.
His chest tightened painfully.
Vivian was dead.
Just like that.
After everything between them…
After the betrayal…
After the anger…
There would never be closure now.
Only guilt.
....
By afternoon, the Laurent mansion was drowning in grief.
Black cars lined outside the estate while powerful businessmen, politicians, and wealthy socialites arrived dressed in mourning colors.
Inside the mansion, Vivian’s father sat broken before her framed photograph.
The atmosphere felt suffocating, heavy, painful.
When Alexander finally arrived, silence spread instantly through the room.
Everyone turned toward him.
Some with pity,
Others with judgment,
Because everyone knew.
Vivian died only hours after Alexander publicly destroyed her father’s company deal.
Mr. Roswell slowly stood the moment he saw him.
His eyes were bloodshot with grief and anger.
“You.”
Alexander said nothing.
“You ruined her!” Mr. Roswell shouted emotionally. “My daughter begged you to forgive her!”
The guests began whispering nervously.
Alexander’s face remained unreadable, though guilt slowly poisoned him from within.
“I never wanted this,” he said quietly.
Mr. Roswell laughed bitterly.
“But it happened!”
The older man pointed angrily toward Vivian’s portrait.
“She loved you despite your cold heart!”
Alexander’s eyes finally lifted toward the photograph.
Vivian’s smile looked painfully alive.
For a brief moment, memories flooded his mind, her voice, her laughter.
The way she used to cling to his arm during parties.
The future they once planned together.
Gone forever.
And strangely…
Instead of anger, all Alexander felt now was emptiness.
Hours later, after the funeral ended, Alexander drove home alone through the rain.
The city lights blurred against his car windows while silence filled the vehicle.
His assistant, David had tried speaking several times.
Alexander ignored him completely.
When he finally reached his penthouse, exhaustion hit him heavily.
Everything felt meaningless suddenly.
The business meetings, the power, the money
None of it mattered tonight.
As he loosened his tie tiredly, his thoughts unexpectedly drifted elsewhere.
To Kelly.
To her angry eyes.
To the way she yelled at him without fear.
For the first time since Vivian’s death…
Alexander felt something other than grief.
And he hated himself for it.
Because somehow, in the middle of heartbreak and guilt…
He wanted to see Kelly again
- Writer
