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Mourning Interrupted: A Scandal Laid Bare Novel Cover

Mourning Interrupted: A Scandal Laid Bare

During a somber funeral, a group of thugs interrupts the service. The leader, claiming to be the protagonist's wife's boyfriend, accuses the husband of being a gold-digging lover. Despite attempts to keep the peace, the husband is brutally beaten while his relatives watch in silence. The assailant eventually shatters the urn, unaware that the deceased is actually his own girlfriend's mother. This modern mystery explores a web of lies and action as a family's dark secrets are laid bare.
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Chapter 4

The scene was chaotic.

After Lester was knocked down, he took a few solid punches himself.

Clutching his face, he screamed, "Help! Help! He's trying to kill me! If I die here, none of you in this village will be safe!"

Hearing this, the middle-aged men and women playing cards in the corner finally started inching over, hesitantly watching us.

I didn't know where I found the strength, but I fought with a frenzy, keeping ten or so people at bay.

Lester, terrified, held up a wad of cash and shouted, "I have money! I'll give 20 thousand dollars to whoever pins down that pretty boy!"

Almost instantly, the onlookers charged forward. One of them grabbed a chair and smashed it into my calf. As the metal leg of the chair dug into my flesh, I felt my blood pouring out, draining the force of my punches.

The others piled on, grabbing my hands and kicking my injured legs mercilessly. "Kneel! Didn't you hear us tell you to kneel?"

After I used the last of my strength, I collapsed onto the floor.

Seeing I wouldn't kneel, Lester slowly approached, pressing the sole of his shoe onto my head. "You were fighting ten of us just now, weren't you? How come you're lying on the ground, licking my shoes now?"

Ignoring his taunts, I looked past Lester's sneering face toward the urn on the table.

That eight-million-dollar urn was the very thing that had nearly cost me my life at Lester's hands.

I raised my hand, taunting him with a smile. "So what if you keep throwing fits? Rosalie is willing to spend money on me but wouldn't buy you a car. See that urn? It's worth eight million dollars! Rosalie paid for it in full!"

Lester stared at the urn, disbelief written all over his face. He sprang up in anger. "So you did spend that eight million dollars! Why? Why should my fiancée pay for your family's funeral? You must've planned this with your mom, didn't you?

"You're just trying to squeeze money out of Rosalie! Do you have any idea how hard it is for her to make that kind of money? You're shameless!

"Your family doesn't deserve something so expensive! Who are you to spend Rosalie's money?" Lester cursed while grabbing the custom-made urn from the table and smashing it onto the floor. "I'm doing my fiancée a favor by breaking this. Your whole family will suffer even in death!"

The urn hit the ground, shattering into countless pieces. The agate and emerald pieces embedded in it scattered, and a cloud of fine dust filled the air, making everyone instinctively cover their noses and mouths.

The relatives who had been holding me down froze for a moment. Realizing they would be in big trouble if they stayed any longer, they fled the scene within seconds.

Only Lester remained, yelling with spite. "Worthless piece of trash! You and your mother both deserve to die with nothing left to bury you in!"

"Who are you saying deserves that kind of death?"

Rosalie arrived just as Lester was in the middle of cursing. She stepped into the room, frowning, her whole demeanor tinged with frustration at being forced into the situation.

"Zayne, don't tell me you made up an excuse just to see me. Your mother passed away a long time ago, didn't she?"

Before she even finished speaking, Lester opened his arms and rushed to greet her.

"Baby, you're finally here! This country bumpkin almost beat me to death!"

Rosalie peered at me with clear impatience. "Why did you hit Lester? He doesn't know anything. If you have a problem, come at me."

Lester's eyes lit up at those words, and he clung to Rosalie's arm, whining, "Rosalie, since you work so hard, I'll let this nonsense with the pretty boy slide. Just make him return the eight million dollars to you. If we hurry back now, we can still make it in time to pick up the car!"

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