From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer novel Chapter 25

Chapter 8

Isabelle pressed her lips together, a flash of hatred in her eyes, but she still reached for his shoulder..

“You can’t bring the dead back to life. I know you must be heartbroken. I didn’t realize there were so many misunderstandings

between you two.”

But Soren dodged her touch with a cold glare, his gaze fixed absently on the blackened window frame.

He said the closest he’d ever gotten to me was standing right at this window, secretly watching me work inside.

He said he couldn’t stop the tears from falling as he watched. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, yet I looked as if nothing was

wrong.

“Tessa, I think that’s when I started to hate you.”

Which is why he eagerly announced his wedding and deliberately paraded his fiancée in front of me.

Isabelle stared at him, stunned, as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Soren, did you ever really love me? Or was it only because I look like her?”

When she asked the question, she probably wasn’t expecting a real answer.

But Soren’s reply was blunt.

“Never. If you didn’t look like her, I wouldn’t have given you a second glance.”

His words stabbed Isabelle’s heart like a knife. She clenched her jaw, and when she looked up again, a cold smile played on her lips.

“Fine. But the person you love is dead, Soren. She’s never waking up. You can wait here for ten years, twenty years, it won’t

matter. She burned to death.”

She looked up at the ruins.

“You made me a laughingstock at our wedding, and yet I was still hoping you’d come back to me. How could you do this to

me?”

She didn’t see Soren’s face darkening as he slowly approached her from behind.

The moment she heard footsteps and whirled around, Soren suddenly clamped his hands around her neck, using all his strength to slam her against the thick tree trunk.

Her face turned crimson as she choked, and she couldn’t utter a sound. Her eyes wide with terror.

The muscles in Soren’s jaw were clenched tight. He forced the words out between gritted teeth.

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From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer: Smile, Ex

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Chapter 8

“How did you know she burned to death?”

I squatted nearby, looking up at the back of his hand, the knuckles white from the force of his grip.

After a few seconds, he abruptly let go.

Isabelle collapsed to the ground, clutching her throat and coughing violently, her eyes bloodshot.

Soren stared down at her. “Tell me. How did you know?”

“I heard people talking. The place is in ruins. I… Soren, don’t be like this, you’re scaring me.”

But Soren gave her no quarter.

“I had the news contained. The official story is that she died from her illness. So tell me again, where did you hear that?”

My fingers were charred black, my body also beard some visible burn marks.

The doctor handed Soren the wedding gown I had clutched to my chest. “She protected this with her life. You should dress her

in it.”

It took Soren half the day to dress me.

He trembled the entire time. Every time he touched my blackened skin, he had to tilt his head back and gasp for air.

He fought to hold back his tears, but the harder he tried, the more they flowed.

He was sobbing by the time he finished.

He took the ring from his own finger, wanting to put it on mine, but my fingers were too badly burned.

He finally broke down completely, squatting on the ground, burying his head in his hands, and weeping uncontrollably.

In the end, that wedding gown was turned to ash along with me.

Soren bit down hard on the back of his hand, his eyes fixed on the scattering ashes.

I was squatting right beside him, watching it all with a sense of detachment.

The past was the past. It really was ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

But Soren seemed trapped in endless torment. He didn’t even want people to speculate about how I died.

His claim that I died of illness wasn’t a complete lie.

Even without the fire, I would have died anyway. Who knows where or when.

Now, Soren grabbed Isabelle’s hair, dragging her toward the ruins.

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From Mob Princess to Mugshot Photographer: Smile, Ex

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Chapter

“You won’t talk? Fine. I’ll leave you here and let Tessa ask you herself.”

“No, let me go! Let me go! Soren, you’re insane!”

He shoved her into the ruins just as a broken beam crashed to the ground with a thud.

Even I got a start and jumped, patting my chest to calm myself.

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