Chapter 83 - HEIRESS'S SECOND CHANCE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter Eighty-Three “To Be Loved.”

Isabella Kingston.

Christian left some of his guards at the office to stay and ensure I am safe, I did not realize it at first, but when I did, I was not exactly upset but rather grateful to know he cares this much. Following his departure, I immersed myself back on my work and fixing the issues at hand.

At one point, I decided to handle another issue that does not necessarily need my presence, but I could not help but do it for the sake of my restless soul to be honest. So, having handled the most pressing issues and trusting my workers to handle the rest, I headed out using the back door, thankful for the security Christian left because they aided me into getting into the car safely and driving out of Montague concept.

I made a quick stop at the mall, changing my outfit as a whole before I got back in the car and headed to my destination. I found myself releasing a small breath as my car pulled up in front of the hospital, but I forced myself into stepping out before I could even think of backing out.

The moment I walked into the building, I felt eyes following my movements from everyone whom seemed to recognize me, and partially because of the two men following me at a safe distance. It did not make much of a difference since I did not wear anything to hide my face—not black shades nor a face mask which are much needed knowing my current predicament.

But, I have no reason to hide behind anything, so, I did not.

Ignoring the look, I headed straight to my destination, stepping into the funeral room that seemed to grow in murmurs at the sight of me—whom they all no doubt hate but still. Stopping by the entrance, I wrote my name down and handed the envelope of money I brought along just like everyone does.

While I was doing so, snippets of conversations from the guests there reached my ears, despite me putting no attempt into overhearing it.

“Is it true? Her family refused an autopsy?”

“What is there to get an autopsy for when she committed suicide? What do they want to find out? The reason why she fell off the goddamn roof?”

A light snicker akin to rebuke came, followed by the statement. “No, but I heard her husband opted for cremation without her parent’ permission. Heard they threw a fit when they found out since they were the ones that wanted an autopsy.”

“Really now? Why would he rush for cremation without them knowing?”

“Who knows? But, he is the husband and legal spouse. He calls the shot.”

“True that.” The person hummed in agreement. “Wait, is that not Isabella Montague?”

“Wow, it really is her,” That was a hushed, but seemingly invested murmur. “The audacity she has to show her face here after driving the poor woman to suicide. She’s shameless.”

“Careful what you say, I heard her husband is suing anyone that says something bad about online?”

“Really? Damn Christian Kingston is scary. I wonder what he saw in such a sleazy woman to marry her. For all we know, it may be a business marriage. It won’t be the first of their kind anyway.”

Having finished signing in, I made a move further into the room to head to the mourning room where the family of the deceased are, ignoring the tidbits of conversation I heard despite it raising some questions in my mind. The moment I stepped foot in there, I was met with the picture of Crystal in my direct line of sight, amidst the pile of flowers there, and my heart dropped instantly to the pit of my stomach.

Swallowing thickly, I pushed myself further into the room, going straight to pay my respects. Picking up a flower, I placed it along with the others, keeping my gaze on the picture of Crystal smiling, I felt my stomach in uneasy knots again as guilt filled my chest. I had to force myself to not dwell on it, before I turned around and faced the mourning family.

The first person, and the only person there is someone I do not quite wish to ever cross paths with again, but here we stood, facing each other. “I am sorry for your loss,” I said genuinely, to James, keeping my tone as soft as I possibly can be.

I do not know what I was expecting, but it certainly was not the calm and sincere response I got. “Thank you for coming,” He bowed his head slightly, his expression holding no malice whatsoever. He does not seem haggard or anything, but he does not seem elated as well.

I bowed my head slightly as well, then turned around to walk out, having done what I came all the way here for—to pay my respects and lift some of the guilt off my chest. However, the moment I turned around, I heard a voice yell out in an infuriated tone.

“You wretched woman!” The voice was not familiar in the slightest, and when I looked at the source, I understood why. Her face is familiar though, for I have seen her once, at my house, when she and her family came—the day James brought Crystal home. Her mother glared at me from where she stood, and the missing haggard look on James’ face, she had it as she stormed over to where I am, livid. “How dare you come here?!”

Her husband followed closely behind her, though he does not seem to have any intention of stopping her, not when he himself seemed upset. Upon approaching us, he was the first to speak. “You should leave, now. Your presence is not welcomed.”

I did not argue. “I am sorry for your loss,” I said instead, genuinely meaning it.

Crystal’s mother stared at me in disbelief, before she visibly scoffed. “Unbelievable!” She huffed out, before she fixed her murderous glare on me. “How dare you show your face here after killing my daughter?! HOW DARE YOU!?” She made a move forward to throw herself at me.

I stepped back, just in time another body came in between us, stopping her with a single look before she could do anything scandalous at her own daughter’s funeral. I could not see the person since she had her back facing me, but the similar height and familiar voice that came served as evidence enough for me to know who.

“I am afraid this is no way to treat someone who comes to offer their condolence,” Her tone was calm, but reserved and cold at the same time.

Crystal’s mother’s expression melted almost immediately, her eyes dilated. “M…M…Mrs. Kingston,” Her tone and act pretty much shows she knows and cares about her, or her opinion anyways. “When did you g-get here?”

“I came to offer my condolence alongside my daughter but seeing what just happened to her,” Gloria stepped back to align with me, her arm looping with mine, her eyes still fixed on Crystal’s mother. “I am afraid I am not welcomed in any space she is not either.”

“No, no, Mrs. Kingston—it’s not…It’s not like that--”

“We will take our leave now.” Gloria cut her off with finality in her tone. “We are sorry for your loss.” With that statement, she steered me away with our arms looped, and together, ignoring the countless eyes following us having listened in on the exchange, we walked out of the funeral room together.

And never once did Gloria let go of my arm. The act, it was akin to her saying she is here for me, that she trusts and supports me. Only without saying it. But, actions speak louder than words, don’t they?

With that simple act, I felt something I haven’t felt in a very, very, long time.

A mother’s love.