My Wedding Day Ended With My Mother’s Murder

Then, he thumped to his knees.

"Lila's pregnant, so she can't get hurt. Have someone beat me."

Looking at him, I suddenly felt so bored.

I stood up, took the whip, and lashed out!

"No!"

Lila suddenly struggled free and threw herself in front of Leon.

At the critical moment, Leon unexpectedly grabbed the whip, which was wrapped in iron thorns, with his bare hands.

His palm was instantly pierced.

A powerful force struck me, pushing me against the table, smashing the vase he and I had made.

Instantly, a searing pain shot through my lower body.

A warm current soaked my black dress.

In the blink of an eye, Leon had already carried the half-conscious Lila. Lila's body was covered in blood, all Leon's.

"Leon, don't go!" I cried.

He paused, gritting his teeth. "Claire, I had Lila have four abortions for you. If this child is gone, she'll never be a mother again."

"But you don't understand this pain."

How could I not understand? For the past four years, I couldn't get pregnant no matter what. I tried everything. Injections, medication, and prayers.

I collapsed to the ground, clutching the hem of his pants. "I'm pregnant, Leon, I'm pregnant too. My stomach hurts..."

"Don't pretend, Claire. It's your period today. It's normal to have stomachaches."

Leon's expression was compassionate, almost cold. He took a step forward and pulled my hand away. I gritted my teeth against the pain.

"Leon, if you dare take her away today, we'll get divorced!"

We'd argued before—harsh words, reconciliations, the usual fractures of a public marriage. If I had spoken about that threat at other times, he might have stalled. But now, without hesitation, he lifted Lila and carried her downstairs.

The bodyguards around me panicked, staring at the blood on the floor, afraid to touch me. I spat out a mouthful of blood and, with the last of my strength, said, "Take me to the hospital..."

When I woke up, the smell of disinfectant filled my nose. The doctor's face was apologetic. "Sorry, Mrs. Hartman, the baby couldn't be saved."

My mind went blank for a long, slow moment. I nodded, mechanically. "Where's Leon?"

The doctor's face went awkward. This hospital belonged to Leon; I owned half of it. He'd insisted on keeping me safe. "Mr. Hartman is upstairs, with..." He trailed off.

Only then did I learn Lila had been treated here. Despite appearing fragile, she had been in this hospital before—several times. The doctor admitted, hesitantly, that she’d had previous abortions here and even a dedicated medical team. Numbness crept over me. Leon had been rehearsing this deception for years.

The doctor saw my pallor and left quietly. I ripped the needle from my hand, forced myself into my gown, and walked upstairs. I didn't find Lila. My phone buzzed: the cemetery manager. "Mrs. Hartman, please come quickly—the old lady's grave is about to be dug up!"

My heart lurched. I sprinted to the cemetery. There she stood—Lila—hands on her hips, barking orders, directing workers. "Dig my grave! This land has good Sacred burial site; it's perfect for burying my dog. He'll be reborn as a human in his next life!"

"Lila, what are you doing!" I shouted.

I leapt from the car and ran at her, each step a hard promise. Workers paused as I shouted, "Stop!" Lila spun and sneered, but the sneer wavered when dirt clung to her shoes. I grabbed the shovel from a stunned worker. Around us, the air tightened—her hired men, the cemetery manager, the wide, shallow pit. I looked at her and felt something chill and decisive hardening inside me. I would unmask everything; I would make the world see, starting now.