I’ll Marry His Rival and Burn His Empire to Ash Chapter 16

I’ll Marry His Rival and Burn His Empire to Ash Chapter 16

I didn’t turn around. I just stood there, listening as her desperate, final argument echoed through the empty living room.

“A woman who has just divorced,” Mother said, her voice laced with the old-money fear of scandal, “how can she marry another man on the same day? Ava, do you even know him? Ethan Blackwood… he’s nothing but new money from Wall Street. He has no family, no roots! You threw away the Devereaux name for someone like that?”

I didn’t answer.

My thoughts had drifted far away, back to that thirty-year nightmare.

In that future, the Monroe family had gone bankrupt, and my father had died of a broken heart. Jackson had paraded Savannah-Claire in front of me, mocking me for losing my last shred of value. It was then that Ethan Blackwood, a man I barely knew, had offered through his lawyer to marry me and use all his resources to help me take everything back.

I had refused. My last, pitiful scrap of pride wouldn’t allow me to accept such “charity.”

Then I died in that filthy psychiatric hospital. No one came to visit. No one even claimed my body.

In the end, it was Ethan Blackwood. A near stranger, who handled my funeral arrangements.

I owed him a thank-you, and a life thirty years late.

This time, I wasn’t going to miss him.

“Madam,” the butler’s hurried voice interrupted my thoughts. “Mr. Blackwood has arrived.”

Mother shot up from her armchair. Her trained composure as Mrs. Monroe instantly replaced her earlier panic. She nervously smoothed her skirt, her gaze darting past my shoulder toward the door.

The door opened.

Ethan Blackwood walked in. He was tall, his perfectly tailored charcoal suit wrapping broad shoulders and a lean waist. He moved like an unsheathed blade, carrying a sharp, calm aura that was utterly alien to Charleston’s leisurely pace.

An assistant followed him. Behind them, two uniformed security officers carried velvet-wrapped boxes and document folios.

“Mrs. Monroe.” Ethan inclined his head slightly, but his gaze landed immediately on me. He came to my side and naturally took my hand. The warmth of his fingertips dispelled the chill that had settled around me.

Mother’s eyes swept over the pile of “gifts,” her expression shifting. Among them was the deed to an oceanfront plot on Kiawah Island, a piece of modern art that looked extraordinarily expensive, and several velvet boxes from famous Fifth Avenue jewelers.

“Mr. Blackwood, you are too generous. This… this is far too much.” Mother’s voice held a trace of fawning she couldn’t quite hide.

“It’s a small gesture.” Ethan’s tone was humble but carried an unquestionable force. He turned to me, his deep eyes full of focus. “For you, nothing is too much.”

He paused, then continued, “As for the wedding, I hope we can hold it as soon as possible, and that it will be a grand affair. Ava was wronged at her last wedding. This time, I want all of Charleston to know that she is Ethan Blackwood’s wife.”

His words left Mother stunned.

And his next sentence exploded in the living room like a bomb.

“Before the wedding, I will transfer half of my personal liquid assets into an irrevocable trust established in your name.” Ethan looked calmly at my mother, as if discussing the weather. “As a show of my sincerity.”

He paused, his gaze sweeping over her speechless, shocked face. In a tone that was polite yet carried absolute pressure, he asked softly:

“Do you have any other requirements?”