Chapter 93 - HEIRESS'S SECOND CHANCE BILLIONAIRE

Chapter Ninety-Three “Unwelcomed Guest.”

Isabella Kingston.

Edward Montague, Chairman of Montague Groups passed away at the age of 78. Family mourns over the loss of such a prominent head and the business world mourns the loss of one of its biggest and most influential figures.

The Montague family is yet to release a statement amidst the death, and the arrest of the eldest Montague son, which leaves everyone wondering if the eldest son’s arrest has anything to do with the Chairman’s untimely death.

Inside report gives insight that the Chairman has been in a comatose for about four days before his sudden demise yesterday. The burial is set to take place today and we await an official statement from the now acting Chairwoman, Isabella Montague Kingston…

The news has somehow became of that about my family, and I could not bring myself to give a single damn. The car slowly moved along with those in progression as we drove to the burial ground, and silence filled the air other than the soft hum of the air conditioner that somehow acts as the little source of peace to me.

That, along with the soft raindrops that clouds the place gave a gloomy air to the place as a whole. But, I found it to be the perfect weather to match my feelings I could not ask for another.

Hollow. That is how I feel inside. I feel empty as well, I just cannot bring myself to react in any way. From the front, passenger seat, I could sense Amy’s wandering gaze to me every once in a while, as if wanting to make sure I am well and not broken.

I cannot affirm to either, but my silence apparently proves to be worse than me denying nor admitting either. Still, I kept my head tilted outwards and my gaze in such direction, till the car came to a stop.

I flicked my eyes close for a brief second, only peeling it open when the door to my side was opened for me, and a shadow casts as an umbrella was held out. For a second, I made no move to step out, until I finally willed myself to do so.

A hand outstretched to help me step out, and instinctively, I found myself tilting my head up to see whom the hand belongs to. I felt a surge of emotions, something I had not felt since I walked into my father’s hospital room yesterday just in time his death was announced.

Surprise, shock, and a deep gut wretching feeling slammed right at me like a struck when my eyes met that warm hazel ones I had yearned to see, and had been deprived of over the past week. I blinked, wanting to confirm if it is really him or not, but even after blinking he remained there—and had not disappeared.

I lifted my hand up, and placed it in his, and it felt all the more real to me in that moment. His soft hands embraced mine, instantly holding it in an assuring way as he helped me step out of the car, his other hand holding the umbrella out to shield us from the raindrops.

In the background, I am aware of the others that have arrived as well and had mounted out of their cars, and I am aware of those wandering gazes in our direction but I could not care about anything else other than Christian’s warm hazels holding mine.

Before I could dwell on so many questions in my mind, his hand gaze mine a small squeeze, and his eyes encouraged me to move on and carry forth what we are there for. In that moment, I placed aside all the questions I have for him and embraced the feeling of him being there for me at my lowest.

Yawing my expression blank, I looked ahead, and hand in hand, the two of us, dressed in blank like everyone else walked further into the cemetery to the point where my father would be buried.

Everything else pretty much passed by in a blur. In between Josephine and Sebastian arriving—to me ignoring their presence as she cried what I know to be fake tears, Sebastian looks rugged, and everyone else pretty much has the same fake expressions masking their features.

I tried to not focus on them, but rather on the grave my father’s casket was lowered into. I held my breath as he was buried, and as if sensing the tenseness in my shoulder, Christian’s hand gave mine another squeeze and I squeezed it back, grateful to have him there.

Once buried, we were asked to give farewell speeches to him. Josephine was the first, and her words were just as scripted as her fake tears were. I could only stare at her with slightly narrowed eyes, holding back the urge to have her and her fake extensions dragged out.

Next up was Sebastian, and I admit, his speech is a bit heart warming. I admit, he may not be the best, but he is not the worst either. I would rather pick him to Alexander any day. After his speech, it was supposed to be me, but I declined it.

There is nothing I would say to my father that I have to say in public for everyone here to listen to. Besides, the last thing I want to do is to talk, and thankfully they understood that so the others were called up to give their speeches as well.

By the end of it all, we were given the chance to places roses on his grave. I am the first, and this time around, I did not reject it. However, just as I let go of Christian’s hand and took a step forward in that direction, a figure dressed in similar color, a black wrap dress that stepped a few inches down her knees emerged from the crowd and made a beeline calmly to the grave.

She picked up a white rose, then placed it on the grave before I could, nor anyone else. Taken aback by the presence of the strange person, light hums began to raise as everyone threw their questions.

“Who is that?”

“How can she just place the first rose?”

“I do not recognize her, do you?”

“Who is she?”

“Who is this woman?”

“The audacity.”

I remained rooted in my position, their words a jumbled mess in my brain as I stared at her side view. She remained unfazed by the questions, as she lingered her gaze on my father’s grave for a few seconds longer. Then, she turned around to face everyone, so her face can be in view.

I inhaled a sharp breath.