Burn Me Once Burn With Me (Ruby Grayson) novel Chapter 409

Hanley watched their stunned faces, his eyes glinting with barely contained excitement and pride. Still, mindful of his own image, he forced himself to appear composed.

He cleared his throat. “Take a look—how much do you think this wedding gown is worth?”

At his words, every appraiser straightened, expressions suddenly grave. “Mr. Grayson, this bridal gown is truly one of a kind. If it ever made it to auction, it would make headlines everywhere. We can’t give you an exact figure right now, but without even considering the craftsmanship or the designer’s reputation, just the fabric and gemstones alone would guarantee you no less than three hundred million.”

The moment he heard that number, Hanley’s calm exterior nearly crumbled.

Three hundred million—at the very least.

His greedy gaze lingered over the flawless white dress, an uneasy question slowly rising in his mind.

If something as casually given as a wedding dress was worth this much, just how vast were the Steele family’s resources?

Hanley’s heart pounded, his fingers tightening as he stared at the gown, unable to look away.

Had he been making the right choices all along?

Doubt crept in, unwelcome but persistent.

This dress had been delivered to him by the Steele family when he married Frieda.

Frieda, the Steele family’s only daughter. But later, he had cut ties with them—boldly, even recklessly.

He’d been young then. Sure, his interest in Frieda had always been colored by the Steele family’s wealth and her status, but he’d also resented how they’d treated him.

In the end, he and Frieda had registered their marriage in haste, without so much as a proper ceremony. The wedding dress had remained locked away in the penthouse ever since.

This villa, too, was part of the property settlement when the Steele family severed ties—a fact Frieda never knew. Hanley had long since transferred everything into his own name, telling her he’d bought the place himself because he wanted to build something in Quinborough.

“I’ll give you more time for the appraisal. But no one can know about this dress—understand?”

Hanley forced his thoughts of the past aside, jaw clenched.

The appraisers, clearly aware that the Grayson family could never have owned something so precious, nodded solemnly. They promised secrecy, but urged Hanley not to sell the dress to anyone in the industry.

Frieda only felt a bitter sense of irony.

“Is that so? I see.”

She stepped out of the car, just as Hanley hurried toward her.

“Frieda, why didn’t you tell me you were at the door? I would’ve come to meet you.”

Whether from his rush or guilt, sweat was beading on his forehead.

Frieda looked him over, her gaze lingering a moment longer than usual.

Maybe it was the weight of the secret pressing on her, but she clenched her hands, unable to hold back any longer. She looked up at Hanley. “Violet—she’s still alive, isn’t she?”

Hanley’s eyes widened in shock.