"I Died on My Wedding Night. My Enemy’s Hair Turned White." Chapter 30

A Life Spent Clinging to Men

Disgust twisted Vivian’s mouth.

“I told her not to fight Blackwood head-on. Soften up. Charm him a little. Don’t waste that face. But she had to be stubborn. Said using her looks would only make him look down on her. An orphanage bastard acting as if she’s some untouchable saint.”

Vivian had spent her entire life clinging to men.

As far as she was concerned, a woman’s only future was to marry someone rich and powerful and depend on him.

Ability. Education. Talent.

Those were just additions to the marriage package.

Bargaining chips to help a woman find a better husband.

But if men were so dependable, why had I ended up dead without even a body left to bury?

Pearl glanced at a message on her phone and brightened.

“Mom, I just found out Lucian’s attending tonight.”

Vivian’s eyes lit up too.

“He must be going for you. He never used to attend these charity galas.”

Pearl looked ecstatic.

“Maybe I really will be Mrs. Blackwood one day.”

Julian, who had been looking at his phone nearby, spoke in an unreadable tone.

“Lucian already has a woman he likes.”

“Who?” Pearl spun toward him, her voice shrill. “I asked around. There haven’t been any women around him for years.”

“Because the one he wants doesn’t want him.”

He said it lightly.

Even I was startled by the revelation.

Lucian’s devastatingly handsome face came to mind.

A man like him, suffering over unrequited love?

After all our years of fighting, I had thought I understood him.

Apparently, it took dying to discover how much I didn’t know.

What kind of woman could get inside Lucian Blackwood’s heart?

Pearl turned in front of the mirror, gaining confidence with every look.

“Even if there was someone before, I’ll make him fall for me.”

Julian put his phone away and stood.

“It’s time. Let’s go.”

I followed them to the gala.

The moment we entered, people gathered around Pearl.

Her trending topic might have been removed, but the artist’s reputation had already made her the center of attention over the last two days.

Tonight was no different.

“Pearl, your gown is gorgeous. Which designer made it? It must be couture.”

She smiled gently.

“I designed it myself.”

More praise followed.

“That’s incredible. I would have assumed it came from a major designer.”

“Well, Pearl designed it. Of course it’s a masterpiece.”

She kept smiling with a show of modest restraint.

She was plainly enjoying every second.

Then Daphne Ashcroft approached, dressed like an overdecorated butterfly.

She took Pearl’s hand with immediate affection. They had only just met, but she acted as though they were already the closest of friends.

“A real heiress really is different. You’re beautiful, talented, and so modest. No wonder that fake Stella disappeared the moment you came home.”

The Ashcrofts ranked last among Fairhaven’s four leading families.

Old money in decline.

Their ancestors had been powerful and distinguished, but each generation had achieved less than the one before.

Daphne’s mother was the daughter of a newly wealthy businessman from the South.

Their marriage had suited both sides.

One family wanted status. The other needed money.

Daphne had always believed I stole her place as Fairhaven’s leading society woman. She competed with me openly and behind my back.

In truth, I could barely be bothered to look at her.

At any important event, the only Ashcroft qualified to sit at my table was her grandfather.

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