Chapter 145

Victoria tossed her bouquet aside and rushed forward, blocking Evelyn's path. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her expression the perfect picture of wounded innocence.

"Evelyn, today is Alexander's and my engagement party." Her voice trembled. "I know you despise me, but please—don't take your anger out on the man I love."

William Montgomery stepped forward, his voice sharp with warning. "Evelyn, this is my daughter's special day. If you know what's good for you, leave now."

Eleanor Kingsley sneered, her eyes burning with contempt. "The fact that a heartless snake like you is still breathing is mercy enough. Get out before I make you regret ever showing your face here!"

Evelyn's heart ached, but her expression remained serene. A faint, knowing smile curved her lips. "Tell me, Mrs. Kingsley, have you ever had your fortune read? I suppose surviving this long is a miracle."

Alexander's chest tightened at the sight of her smile—so bright, so devastating, it cut through him like a blade.

Eleanor and William's faces darkened. "You shameless wretch!" Eleanor spat. "Still trying to worm your way between Alexander and Victoria?"

Evelyn tilted her head. "Alexander and I were married for three years. We divorced recently, yet the child Victoria bore him is already two. So tell me—who really stole whose husband? Who's the true mistress here?"

Eleanor and William fell silent. Victoria's face twisted with fury.

The guests murmured among themselves, the scandalous truth now laid bare.

Evelyn didn't need to see to imagine Victoria's expression. She turned toward the sound of Alexander's voice, her sightless eyes fixed in his direction.

"My dear ex-husband," she called softly. "I know none of you want me here—least of all you. I'll leave after I give you my gift."

Alexander's pulse pounded in his temples. His dark gaze never left her. "What gift?"

Evelyn exhaled, her voice steady. "My ashes."

A stunned silence fell over the room.

Alexander's breath hitched.

Evelyn was here to make a scene—but not the kind anyone expected.

"Evelyn," Alexander said, his voice strained. "What are you saying?"

She smiled. "I'm speaking clearly. I want to give you my ashes."

"Evelyn—"

"I know you hate me. All of you do." Her voice was eerily calm. "But I don't have much time left. Once I'm gone, you can take my ashes. Crush them. Scatter them. Do whatever you want—just one request." She paused. "When the time comes, take them to Pinecrest Heights. Let them drift into the sea."

Alexander's expression darkened. He stared at her unfocused eyes, words failing him.

Evelyn's smile was bittersweet, fading as the pain in her chest grew unbearable. She couldn't hold on much longer.

"Alexander," she whispered, "thank you for the memories. But I'm giving them all back to you now—everything, even my ashes. After this, we're even. And if there's a next life... I hope I never meet you again."

A single tear slipped down her cheek. Without another word, she turned away.

Then the heat rose—a searing rush from her stomach, clawing up her throat. Blood spilled past her lips, staining her fingers as she tried in vain to stop it.

Crimson droplets splattered against her white dress, blooming like grotesque flowers. The sight burned into Alexander's vision, relentless and horrifying.