I Signed With The Wrong Husband Chapter 08
“Who gave you permission to touch Hattie’s things?” Sylvester’s gaze was dangerously dark, as if he wanted to tear Miranda apart.
“Syl, it’s such a mess here… I thought redecorating might help your mood-”
Before Miranda could finish, Sylvester slapped her so hard she stumbled back several steps.
He glared at her. Everything in this house had been chosen together with Henrietta.
How dare Miranda lay a finger on any of it?
Covering her cheek, Miranda began to cry, tears streaming through her fingers. “I only wanted to make you feel better…”
Her tears only irked him more.
He stepped forward and gripped her chin with bone–crushing force. “If it weren’t for you, Hattie wouldn’t have been upset. If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive.”
He shoved her violently to the floor, his voice icy.
“Restore everything exactly as it was before I change my mind. Or I swear I’ll kill you.‘
As he turned to leave, his eyes fell on the bedroom. Only then did he realize why it felt so empty. The pre–wedding photo on the wall was gone, along with every picture of him and Henrietta. He then went to pull up the security footage. Then he discovered it was Henrietta who had destroyed the photos. She had even given away all the gifts from him.
An invisible hand seemed to clutch his heart, squeezing until he could barely breathe.
Henrietta had treasured those photos. The day they took their pre–wedding shots, she had held his hand and said, “We’ll hang this on our wall forever.”
But back then, Miranda’s tears had clouded his mind, and he had overlooked Henrietta’s pain, again and again.
How desperate she must have been to destroy the memories that meant everything to her?
He bent down, yanked Miranda up by her hair, and hissed, his eyes cold and ruthless, “You and I are both sinners. We must atone.”
Soon, Miranda understood what he meant.
Every night, he came home drunk and forced her to bow before Henrietta’s portrait, pressing her head down.
Every morning, before she was fully awake, he had someone drag her up to do it again.
She had wanted to be Mrs. Payne, not a sinner paying penance.
Finally, on the twentieth day, she could no longer take it and snapped, “Henrietta is dead! She’s been dead for half a month! Why won’t you look at me? You used to be so nice to me!”
Sylvester looked up, his eyes utterly cold. With a cold sneer, he said, “Hattie is and always will be the only one I love. You haven’t atoned enough today. Continue.”
He stormed out without a backward glance at Miranda, whose head was shoved down before Henrietta’s portrait as she sobbed wretchedly.
Because of Sylvester’s despondency, the training plans for his combat brigade had stalled for half a month.
Unable to watch him deteriorate, a friend handed him a gilded invitation. “Mr. Hammond is back to get engaged and take over the company.
“I know you’re grieving, but you’ve got to think of your subordinates. They shouldn’t suffer with you.”
The engagement was held in the company’s guesthouse ballroom. Nearly every influential figure in Washington, D.C.’s business world attended.
Cedric Hammond was a legend. Years ago, he had vanished without a trace.
Now, with his high–profile return, everyone wanted to connect with him to secure future collaborations.
Sylvester arrived in a wrinkled suit, Miranda at his side.
Before entering, he warned her, “This is an important event. Behave. Don’t cause trouble.
“When we return, you’ll continue atoning to Hattie. Don’t get any ideas.”
Miranda clutched her gown so tightly her nails dug into her flesh. Resentment burned in her eyes, but she could only nod.
The venue was lavish–handmade custom carpets, phalaenopsis orchids flown in from Florida.
Sylvester hung his head despondently.
He should have had an engagement party as perfect as this with Henrietta.
Suddenly, confetti cannons erupted. The doors swung open slowly.
There stood Cedric in an immaculate dress uniform, the stars on his epaulets gleaming.
He held a woman’s hand–a woman in a white wedding dress, her long hair swept into a chignon that revealed her slender neck.
From a distance, Sylvester narrowed his eyes as they approached.
Why did the woman seem so familiar?
