Chapter 344
Chapter 344:
Next to him, Matriarch Beatrice sat in a wheelchair, a shadow of her former self. A portable oxygen tank was hooked to the back of the chair, clear tubing running beneath her nose. Her skin was the color of old parchment, and she slumped slightly to the left, her strength decimated by the heart attack. She couldn’t shout; she could barely lift her head. Her eyes, however, burned with feverish, impotent rage as they darted around the sparse crowd.
Skye stood a few feet away, holding a black umbrella. She wasn’t holding it over Liam. She held it over herself. She was not playing the dutiful wife anymore; she was the observer at the funeral of an empire.
“I’m sorry, Grandfather,” Liam murmured, his voice tight with pain as he tossed a white rose onto the stone marker. “I have failed to keep the peace p>
Beatrice made a weak, gurgling noise. She lifted a trembling hand, signaling Mrs. Higgins, who leaned down to listen to her breathless whisper.
“The Matriarch says… Kensingtons do not apologize,” Higgins repeated, her voice shaking. “She says… we endure p>
“We are crumbling, Grandmother,” Liam whispered, clutching his side.
Suddenly, a scream shattered the somber quiet.
“Liam Kensington! You hypocrite p>
The voice was shrill and broken, tearing through the rain like jagged glass.
Heads turned. Security guards—the few cheap ones Beatrice had hired back—reached for their holsters, sluggishly.
A woman burst from behind a large marble angel statue. She was a wreck. Her expensive dress was torn and muddy, her hair a matted mess of blonde tangles. Mascara ran down her face in black rivers, making her look like a vengeful spirit.
“Lana?” Liam gasped, stepping back. He winced, his hand flying to his healing wound.
It was Lana Winters, the daughter of a rival shipping magnate. A girl whose reputation had been destroyed six months ago in a scandal involving a chauffeur—a scandal orchestrated by Beatrice to break a business contract.
“You did this!” Lana screamed, stumbling over the wet grass. She pointed a shaking finger at Liam. “Your grandmother ruined me! She paid that driver to say those things! My father disowned me because of you p>
Beatrice’s eyes snapped wide. The frailty vanished for a second, replaced by her old iron will. She tried to shout, but only a wheeze came out. She clawed at the armrest, her mouth moving in silent, furious commands.
𝗡𝗈 𝗺іѕ𝗌і𝗇𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝗮𝗉𝘁𝖾r𝗌 𝘰n 𝘣𝖾lո𝘰𝘷𝗲l𝘴.𝖼o𝘮
“Get her… out…” Higgins translated, terrified.
Two guards lunged forward.
Lana scrambled back, her heels slipping in the mud. She hit the base of the angel statue, cornered.
Skye moved. But not to help.
She watched with cold detachment. This was the fallout she had predicted.
“Stop!” Skye commanded the guards. Her voice was authoritative, cutting through the panic. “Let her speak p>
Liam looked at Skye, bewildered. “Skye? She’s hysterical. She’s dangerous p>
Skye turned slowly to her husband. Her eyes were cold, reflecting the gray sky.
“She isn’t hysterical, Liam. She’s telling the truth. The chauffeur wasn’t an affair. It was a setup. I saw the emails Secretary Lee intercepted. The digital trail is undeniable p>
Skye pivoted, her gaze locking onto Beatrice in the wheelchair. “Isn’t that right, Grandmother p>
Beatrice froze. Her mouth opened, but no denial came out.
Only a strangled gasp.