Desperate Funeral

Chapter 6

The officer stepped forward without hesitation, ready to escort Brian out. But Brian panicked and snapped, "You're really going to believe an outsider over me? I'm your husband! You trust some woman who claims we're involved?"

I couldn't stand to look at his fake expression anymore. I slowly closed my eyes, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. "Why wouldn't I believe her? I'm just an orphan, right? How would someone like me know what's true or not? Isn't that what you've always thought?"

Brian went quiet. His face faltered for a second, guilt flashing across his features before the officers led him out.

The room finally fell quiet. I picked up my phone and called my assistant.

"I need you to find the prenup Brian signed before the wedding," I said. "The one where he swore his loyalty."

Back then, I honestly thought I'd never need to look at that document again. I thought our marriage would last.

Now? I just needed to sign my name and it would be legally binding.

After sending a text to my assistant saying I was filing for divorce, I hesitated a beat, then added another message:

[Check all financial transactions between Brian and Shirley.]

If they were planning to get married, there would be expenses. Big ones.

I dug through my phone and forwarded the receipts for the hotel and funeral arrangements. I'd paid for all of it.

A few minutes later, my assistant messaged back with a warning:

[Be careful. There's a lot of hate online.]

Before I could even formulate a response, another text came through:

[Do you want to press charges for the online harassment?]

That serious?

Confused, I opened my browser and tapped into the trending page. And then I understood.

The footage from the hospital, everything from the fight at the entrance to me being carried out, had gone viral.

But the clip had been edited. Badly. In the version flooding the internet, it looked like I had kicked Shirley. It had already been reshared over a million times.

The video's reach had already surpassed that of any campaign we'd ever run with A-list celebrity endorsements.

And now, my identity was exposed.

But the most twisted part? Anyone who tried to defend me online got instantly swarmed by hate. It didn't matter what they said. According to the internet, I was the woman who seduced a man with money. A homewrecker. A villain.

No one dared speak up for me anymore.

I scrolled through the disgusting comments, then typed a message back to my assistant:

[Don't worry. It's free publicity. Let them talk. The truth will come out soon enough.]

No amount of public opinion was going to break me.

I didn't sue Brian, not yet. But I did tell my assistant to post an announcement online. One that made it clear Brian had worked for me. That the company was mine.

I knew she'd get torn apart if she wrote a single word defending me. So I told her not to explain anything.

The backlash was only going to grow. And when it peaked? That's when the truth would hit hardest. Let them burn through their anger first.

At the hospital, the doctor stitched up the wound on my back. After a quick checkup, I was discharged. I didn't go home, I went straight to the cemetery.

But I still missed my father's burial.

Standing in front of his tombstone, guilt wrapped around my chest like a vice. He had left me everything, his name, his legacy, and I had nearly lost it all.

Looking back, maybe my relationship with Brian had been rotten from the start. He never loved me. He wanted my inheritance. And I, blinded by emotion, never saw it coming.

I returned to the company, and just as I stepped out of the car, my phone rang.

Brian.

His voice was full of fake concern. "Daisy, I made you food. I was on my way to the hospital, but they said you were discharged? What about your wound, ?"

I cut him off, my voice ice cold.

"You don't need to worry about that anymore. I've already had your things removed from the office. You're officially fired. Don't bother showing up again."

"And one more thing, my assistant sent the divorce agreement to your email. Print it out. Sign it. It's over."

There was a pause on the line. Then Brian exploded.

"What?! I'm not signing anything! You want a divorce because of what, some crazy woman running her mouth?! Daisy, are you out of your mind?!"

"Do you even know what people are saying about you online? What they think of you now? If we split up, everyone will assume it's true! Now's when you need me the most!"

Even now, he was still acting. Still trying to use public opinion to his advantage.

If it weren't for him, and his precious "fiancée", I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

I laughed bitterly. "Oh, don't worry. Nothing proves my innocence better than divorcing you. Brian, you're disgusting. Anyone who gets near you ends up in hell."

"Check your email before you say another word."

I paused, then added with a slow, deliberate tone:

"You cheated. You broke the marriage. Which means the prenup's in effect. You walk away with nothing. And don't forget to pay me back the money you spent, on her."

"I've already sent you the full invoice."

With that, I hung up and walked into the company lobby, thinking that would be the end of it.

But I was wrong.

Later that day, as the sun dipped behind the skyline and employees began leaving the building, Brian was there.

Blocking the front entrance, waiting for me.