NovelEnglishChapter 420 Her fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, and her teeth were nearly grinding to pieces. "Fine," she hissed through gritted teeth, "let's just say I owe you. I'll give you the wedding you want." "That's more like it." Stewart's hand pressed firmly to the back of her neck as he leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss against her forehead.
Briony closed her eyes. Silent tears slipped from the corners and traced down her cheeks.
Stewart had planned everything down to the last detail.
Besides Bianca, there was an entire team of wedding staff waiting aboard the yacht.
A private doctor, a master of ceremonies, even a chef-no expense spared.
This yacht had been extensively renovated, but nowhere more so than the cabin Briony had stayed in these past days. It was an exact replica of Southcreek Manor's master bedroom, recreated with painstaking precision.
Ever since Briony had finally agreed to Stewart's demand for a wedding ceremony, these people began appearing one after another before her.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtTwo female stylists were busy doing her hair and makeup.
The yacht floated in calm waters, anchored far from shore.
Today, the sea was as smooth as glass.
Blue sky arched overhead, the ocean stretched endlessly, and every now and then a seagull soared past. On deck, the wedding planners scurried back and forth, stringing up flowers and balloons, rolling out a red carpet, testing the sound equipment. The scene was every bit as extravagant and meticulously orchestrated as the ceremonies that made their rounds on social media-full of pageantry, designed for glossy perfection. With the help of the stylists, Briony was made to change back into the wedding dress she'd cto hate. There were dark red stains on the gown-blood, stark against the white.
One of the stylists suggested they could glue rose petals over the stains, call it artistic, even romantic. Briony didn't protest. She let them do as they wished, indifferent to the fuss.
To an outsider, those scarlet petals might look creative, a clever flourish for a tic love story.
But Briony knew the truth. It didn't matter how many rose petals they glued on- the blood was still there, and no amount of decoration could ever make this dress clean again.
Just like her marriage to Stewart.
Soaked in lies, shadowed by death-there was no going back to innocence.
From the moment she'd agreed to Stewart's terms, Briony had felt nothing but a strange, numb calm.
Her makeup was only half-finished when Stewart, already dressed in his suit, pushed open the door and walked in. OR The stylists greeted him politely. "Mr. Wentworth." "You can go," Stewart said, his tone even.
The women set down their brushes and palettes and silently left the room.
Stewart walked over to Briony.
She stared straight ahead, her face expressionless, refusing to even glance his way.
He didn't seem to mind.
Instead, he knelt slowly in front of her, knee on the floor, and took custom high heels from their box.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe shoes were covered in tiny crystals, sparkling under the lights—straight out of a fairy tale.
Stewart's slender hands lifted her foot, and with the other, he tried to slip the shoe on.
It didn't fit.
He hesitated, momentarily taken aback.
Briony let out a cold, mirthless laugh. "Stewart, are you sure these are m meant for me?"
He heard the sarcasm in her voice, but answered quietly, Tordered them in your did size. Briony frowned.
Ever since the baby, her feet were a size bigger-but she saw no reason to e tell Stewart that. "It's fine," Stewart said gently, at her with vel uncharacteristic tenderness. figure something out." He placed the shoes back in their box, stood, and left the room.
Briony lowered her gaze, her eyes icy and hard.
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