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My Funeral, His Destruction Stage Novel Cover

My Funeral, His Destruction Stage

On their daughter's fifth birthday, Carter returns with a mistress and their secret child. He denies his wife's title while her own parents prioritize a business merger over her terminal cancer diagnosis. The final straw occurs when Carter strikes his daughter for her mistress's child. He expects a quiet exit, but his dying wife has other plans. With three months left, she will dismantle his life. Her funeral won't be a goodbye; it will be his ruin.
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Chapter 2

Adelle POV

Carter' s eyes, usually calculating and cold, blazed with a fury I hadn't seen before. But beneath the anger, there was a flicker of something else-fear? Humiliation? He stood there, frozen, his chest heaving. Then, with a harsh glare that promised retribution, he grabbed Fernanda' s arm and pulled her and her terrified daughter out of the living room. The front door slammed shut, echoing through the sudden, suffocating silence.

Daisy, still clutching my hand, looked up at me, her face a mask of confusion and hurt. "Mommy, why did Daddy leave?" Her voice was barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears.

I knelt, pulling her close, burying my face in her sweet-smelling hair. "Daddy… Daddy just had something important to do, sweetie. It' s okay." My throat was tight, the lie burning on my tongue. How many more lies would I have to tell her to protect her from his cruelty?

But Daisy wasn't fooled. Her small body trembled. "Does Daddy not like me anymore?" A fresh wave of tears welled in her eyes. "He didn' t even give me a hug."

My heart twisted, a sharp, agonizing wrench. How could he? How could he be so utterly callous to his own daughter? Daisy' s tears started to fall, silent, stinging drops. I kissed the top of her head, my own eyes blurring. I had no words of comfort left. The well of hope had utterly run dry.

A single tear escaped, landing on Daisy' s soft hair. She sniffed, then slowly, carefully, her tiny finger reached up and brushed my cheek. "Mommy, don' t cry." Her voice was still small, but laced with a surprising maturity. "It' s my birthday."

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open. Carter emerged, his suit jacket rumpled, his hair a mess. He saw us, Daisy still silently weeping, my face streaked with tears, and a frown deepened on his face. He looked annoyed, as if our sorrow was an inconvenience.

"Adelle. We need to talk." His voice was low, flat, devoid of warmth.

I wiped my eyes roughly with the back of my hand, my voice hoarse. "What is there to talk about, Carter?"

He strode towards us, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over Daisy and me. His face was stone cold, his eyes chips of ice. "Don' t create a scene, Adelle. Don' t make yourself a victim." He paused, his gaze flicking to Daisy. "And don' t teach our daughter to be weak like you."

The words stole my breath. Weak? After everything I had endured, everything I had sacrificed? I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.

"Weak?" I whispered, the word tasting like bile. "Daisy asked why you didn' t hug her, Carter. She asked if you didn' t like her. What was I supposed to say? That her father chose his mistress and her child over his own daughter' s birthday?"

He scoffed. "She' ll get used to it. And don't you dare call Fernanda' s daughter 'another family member' again. She is not Daisy' s sister."

The implication hung heavy in the air. He wanted me to acknowledge that Fernanda' s child was his child, but not to grant her any relation to Daisy. He wanted his new life, his new family, to be separate, pristine, unblemished by the old. I was nothing more than a discarded relic.

A cold, weary understanding settled over me. "So, what is it you truly want, Carter?" I asked, my voice devoid of emotion. "The divorce papers? Is that why you' re here?"

He leaned down, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "I want you to sign the papers, Adelle. I want custody of Daisy, of course. For her sake. And I want you to disappear quietly. No drama. No public spectacle."

Exhaustion, bone-deep and soul-weary, washed over me. I was too tired to fight. "Fine," I whispered. "Whatever you want."

He straightened, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. "Good. See? It wasn' t so hard." He gave a curt nod, a dismissive wave of his hand. "I' ll have my lawyers draw up the papers. Don' t try to make it difficult." Then, without another word, he turned and left, the front door closing softly this time, a final, chilling punctuation mark.

I sat there, holding Daisy, my heart a shattered mess. The silence was deafening, punctuated only by my own ragged breaths and Daisy' s quiet sobs. My arms tightened around her, as if I could squeeze the pain out of both of us. But it was useless. The tears streamed down my face, silent, endless.

The birthday candles on the table flickered, then one by one, extinguished, leaving a faint trail of smoke. The last flicker of hope in our marriage died with those candles, leaving only a cold, hard resolve in its place.

I spent the rest of the night awake, Daisy asleep in my arms. The darkness of the house mirrored the darkness in my soul. I stared at the ceiling, every memory of Carter flashing through my mind, each one twisted by the new, brutal reality. The love I once felt for him, the hopes I had cherished for our future, all of it had turned to ash. I held Daisy tighter, the warmth of her small body the only thing keeping me from shattering, knowing I had to find a true escape, not just a different kind of prison. He had taken so much. But he would not take my daughter' s future. Adelle Moon was dead. A protector was born.

The next morning, Carter still hadn' t returned. I knew he wouldn' t. I dressed Daisy, took her to school, my face a carefully constructed mask.

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