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The Widow's Deception

The Widow's Deception

Author: kentais2002
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Chapter 1 The Funeral

Word Count: 1052    |    Released on: 02/10/2025

to choke her. Elena Marquez sat in the front pew, her back ramrod straight, her black veil draped low across her

him. Such a

look like a

ly in her lap, her gloves pristine, her nails digging crescent moons into her palms beneath them. She would not cry, not here, not now. A

philanthropist, the beloved son of the city, was laid to rest in a box that seemed far too opulent for the man Elena had known in private. The mourners we

ressure she swallowed dow

er, tears streaking her face. She gave Elena a small, hesitant squeeze,

dal. Elena could feel the divide: half the congregation mourning with genuine sorrow, the oth

there w

o unsettle her, the same sharp cheekbones, the same calculating eyes, but where Adrian had perfected charm, Victor wore arrogance like cologne. H

the Latin words washing over her like static. Her mind wand

she had disagreed with him. The slam of glass on marble, the warning in his eyes. She had gone to bed alone that night, locking her door from the

. The papers called it a tragedy. But th

f the world, accused not wi

erself of the lesson she had learned long ago: weakness was fatal

black umbrellas and dampening velvet coats. Elena followed the pallbearers, her heels clicking against the stone steps,

n against polished wood. One by one, mourners approached, dropping white roses into the grave. When it was h

low no one could hear

arth did

s there, waiting. His smile was

o only she could hear. Almost convincing. But you should kn

ul, Victor. You're speakin

nt me to speak the truth. I'll be watching you, dear sister. The empire doesn't b

h her pulse roared in her ears. Threat

ned. This is no thr

Elena remained frozen for a moment, rain dampening her veil, her gloves clenching tight. The world around he

the reporters'. Different. Measuring. She glanced up, scanning the crowd, and for the

he others, he was not weeping, not whispering. He was studying her, as though she were the only person standing a

gh the rain was only a drizzle. Whoe

the damp earth beneath her feet, that

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