Chapter 8
Marla contentedly took his arm as they walked up the steps to rehearse the wedding ceremony.
But the moment she turned-
RIP!
The waistline of the wedding dress suddenly tore open, and then the entire gown collapsed like an avalanche!
Marla screamed, frantically grabbing at the hem, but stepped into empty air and tumbled straight down the stairs!
“Marla!”
Поту
Leander’s face changed drastically. He rushed over to catch her, quickly removing his suit jacket to wrap around her exposed body.
But it was too late. The rehearsal venue was packed with reporters whose cameras flashed frantically, capturing every moment of Marla’s naked fall.
That day, hashtags like #Everhart Group Bride’s Public Exposure# and #Marla’s Wedding Rehearsal Disaster# shot to the top of trending topics.
At the hospital, chaos reigned.
When bodyguards forcibly brought Elara to the ward, Leander stood by the window, a cigarette between his fingers, the ashtray already overflowing with butts.
He turned around, pain in his eyes: “Elara, have you lost your mind?”
Elara looked at him calmly: “What?”
“The wedding dress!” He crushed out his cigarette violently, his voice suppressing barely contained rage. “I thought you truly didn’t care anymore, but you actually sabotaged the dress?!”
Elara paused for a moment, then laughed: “You think I did it?”
“Who else could it be?!” Leander grabbed her wrist, his grip so tight it nearly crushed her bones. “Destroying someone’s reputation is the most despicable tactic, especially when she’s carrying my child. Marla’s hemorrhaging badly–we almost lost the baby! She has a rare blood type and the hospital doesn’t have enough. You need to donate blood!”
Looking at his furious expression, Elara suddenly found it absurd.
He didn’t even ask–just assumed she was guilty.
She opened her mouth to say “it wasn’t me,” but she knew that even if she refused, she’d be forced to go,
She was leaving soon anyway. She didn’t want any more complications.
So she lowered her eyes and said softly: “Fine, I’ll donate.”
The blood donation process was lengthy.
Elara lay on the hospital bed, watching her bright red blood flow through the tubes, drop by drop, like her love for Leander over all these years, slowly being drained away.
Outside the room, Leander’s parents rushed in, immediately pointing at Elara and cursing: “You poisonous bitch! Sabotaging the wedding dress! Now Maya is humiliated and hospitalized because of you–we nearly lost both mother and child. Are you satisfied?!”
lara s face was pale, her voice weak: “I never touched the dress…”
“Shut up!” Leander’s father cut her off harshly. “The evidence is clear–how dare you deny it?!”
His mother directly ordered: “Guards! Drag her away and carry out family punishment!”
Leander stood to the side, his hands trembling as he lit a cigarette, but ultimately… said nothing.
Clara was pressed down on the cold floor of the ancestral hall as whips lashed her back, tearing skin and flesh.
She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out.
But tears fell uncontrollably.
She remembered many years ago when she first came to the Everhart home. Leander had taken her hand proudly and told his parents: “Dad, Mom, this is Elara Whitlow, my future wife.”
Back then, Leander’s parents had been so kind to her.
Now, they wished her dead.
When the final lash fell, Elara could no longer hold on and fainted.
When she woke again, she lay in a guest room bed, her back burning with pain.
Leander sat beside the bed. Seeing her awake, he spoke with a dark expression: “The doctor said the baby was saved, but she’s emotionally unstable now… I was wrong to think you two could coexist peacefully.”
He pulled out a plane ticket and placed it on the nightstand: “Mom and Dad want you to go abroad for a while. Come back after Marla gives birth.”
Looking at the ticket, Elara suddenly laughed.
Tomorrow was his and Marla’s wedding.
He was probably afraid she’d cause trouble, so he was rushing to send her away.
She said nothing, reaching for the ticket.
Leander relaxed, his tone softening: “Elara, rest well. When everything’s over, I’ll come get you.”
Elara turned her back to him and quietly hummed in agreement.
The next day, the entire city was broadcasting Leander and Marla’s wedding.
Elara’s immigration papers were also finalized.
She stood in the airport terminal with her suitcase.
She looked down at the ticket Leander had given her.
Destination: Switzerland, a quiet little town.
She ture the ticket in half and threw it in the trash.
Then she bought a new ticket.
One–way to Canada.
While waiting to board, the airport’s big screen was broadcasting Leander’s wedding.
Leander wore a sharp suit, Marla was radiant in wlute.
Elara suddenly remembered when she was sixteen and Leander had shouted “Elara Whitlow, I like you!” across the basketball court, his face flushurd red
She remembered her twenty–second birthday when he knelt in the snow with a ring, his voice trembling as he said, “Marry me. please?”
She remembered their wedding when she was twenty–five, how he’d lifted her veil with tears in his eyes, saying, “Elara, in this lifetime, I’ll only love you.”
She smiled softly, turned toward the boarding gate, and never looked back.
At the wedding venue. Leander stood on the red carpet, inexplicably restless.
“Now, may the bride and groom kiss-”
Leander frowned, asking coldly: “Didn’t we say to cancel that part?”
Before the officiant could answer, his assistant rushed onto the stage, face deathly pale, whispering something in his ear.
Leander’s expression froze instantly.
He grabbed his assistant’s collar, his voice shaking: “What… what did you say? Say it again!”
The assistant stammered: “We just… just received word that Miss Elara’s flight to Switzerland… crashed… all 178 people on board… no survivors…”
