The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes-Chapter 141- wedding banquet

Charles suddenly turned around, his hand roughly grasping her chin, fingertips brushing away the tears on her face. His eyes were deep and intense. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear, his voice a haunting whisper that penetrated her heart.

"Janet, no matter what your reasons are, if you leave me, don’t ever think about coming back this life."

"If I die, what will you do?" Janet raised her glistening eyes nervously to meet his. She wasn’t looking for that kind of answer...

"Are you threatening me?" To Charles, those words sounded like she was daring him with her life. His grip on her chin tightened slightly, his gaze turning cold and distant. He stared at her intently, speaking slowly and clearly, "If you die, I’ll follow you to the underworld."

It was this passionate, devoted man who made Janet’s tears fall harder. How could she be so selfish and cruel to let him watch her suffer from illness? How could she heap her pain onto him?

His vow to follow her in life and death only strengthened Janet’s resolve to leave him. As long as he lived well—even if he hated her—that was enough. There was still one thing in this world he couldn’t let go of—their baby.

"No, Charles. If one day I leave you, promise me you’ll live well!" Janet pulled his large hands down. They were ice-cold now, no longer warm as before. His handsome face looked worn, lonely, and tired—all because of her. She really wasn’t a good wife.

Janet held his hands and slowly placed them over her small belly. She hadn’t told him yet—he was going to be a father. But now, she couldn’t say those words.

Charles gripped her slender waist, feeling the warmth of her body. As her soft form pressed against his chest, her cherry lips moved close to his jawline. On tiptoe, she kissed his stubbled chin, then slowly moved upward.

A strange feeling surged through him. When his body touched her belly, a fierce heartbeat jolted his heart, making his breath catch. It felt like a powerful electric current struck his palm. What was happening?

Before he could think further, Janet wrapped her arms around his neck, lips brushing his corner of the mouth as she murmured, "Charles, promise me..."

After bringing Janet home, Charles wordlessly handed her a gorgeous white gown. In the blink of an eye, he changed into a sleek black suit with a neat bow tie. Seeing Janet’s surprised expression, he said nothing—authoritatively helping her into the dress with his own hands.

Janet couldn’t help but recall her first day at the Elwin mansion, wearing a white dress just like this. Her first night, blossoming beneath him—low-key and elegant. Her slender waist cinched tightly, and though she was nearly three months pregnant, there was no sign of it yet.

Charles led Janet by the hand out of the car, arriving at a magnificent hall. His gentle eyes were tinged with darkness—the ruthless side Janet knew all too well. She grew nervous, clutching his large hand tightly, afraid to let go even for a moment. Most of all, she dreaded the thought of having an episode of temporary blindness here.

They looked like a prince and princess from a castle—black and white perfectly matched—walking slowly amid the admiring gazes of the crowd.

"Janet, open your eyes wide and watch everything that’s about to happen!" Charles leaned down elegantly, like the perfect husband. He smoothed the fabric on her shoulder and, noticing her tension and unease, affectionately patted her cheek and said.

Tonight was a lavish wedding banquet. The groom was Vincent, the beloved son of the Vice President, but the bride was her own half-sister, Elvira.

Seeing Elvira’s waxy pale face twisted with unwilling jealousy, Janet immediately understood what was really going on.

At this seemingly grand but unnoticed wedding, Janet only saw faces without smiles hidden beneath the halo of prestige. What was happening here?

Her eyes followed Charles as he looked toward the man beside Elvira, and finally, Janet understood—the rumors were not baseless after all. The man sitting in a wheelchair, with disabled limbs, was the groom, her nominal brother-in-law.

After seeing Vincent—the true "cripple"—Janet realized how lucky she had been to marry Philip, a man with jewel-like beautiful eyes.

That man suffered from congenital poliomyelitis. Not only were his limbs crippled, but his facial features were also strangely deformed. His eyes always squinted in one direction; his lips twitched uncontrollably. He could barely speak simple words. Facing such a man, almost like a "fool," Elvira’s pale face was filled with deep disgust and fear.

She had once dreaded marrying a "defective" man, but in the end, she couldn’t escape this fate’s shackles.

Janet’s body trembled as she shrank into Charles’s embrace. Charles, however, firmly wrapped his arms around her shoulders. As they appeared, the crowd parted to make way. Charles raised his chin arrogantly, holding Janet tightly as they slowly approached the couple.

"Vice President, congratulations!" Charles said simply as he reached out to shake hands with a middle-aged man. Janet nodded casually at the stern man—Vincent’s father and Elvira’s father-in-law.

"Thank you, Boss, for honoring us with your presence!" The Vice President’s gaze toward Charles held a trace of fear.

Before Janet could see the expression on the man’s face as he bowed humbly to Charles, Charles had already pulled her toward Elvira, who looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Janet, it’s your sister’s wedding today. Say congratulations!" Charles’s hands, resting on her waist, gently caressed her skin. Even through the fabric, she could feel his touch.

He was smiling, but the smile was chillingly sinister.

Elvira bit her lip hard to keep from screaming. Her current state was entirely caused by the man she once deeply loved. Just thinking about her future life in this prison-like marriage to a husband who haunted her dreams was more painful than a prison sentence.

"Congratulations... to you!" Janet managed to say with difficulty. After seeing the groom today, the waves of nausea churned in her stomach and pressed hard against her throat, but she bit back the urge to vomit. Elvira’s agonized expression before her was a thousand times worse than her own misery.

Seeing her look as if she were living death, Janet’s lips curled into a faint smile. Perhaps this was what they called karma.