She Became Rich After Divorce (Cheyenne and Kelvin) novel Chapter 670

Chapter 670: Regret of Leon

Gotta admit, the weddings of both the Lara and Weaver families were absolutely spectacular.

The guests who attended the weddings felt like they were in a dream, as if they were watching a movie.

The first time they attended the wedding, the groom ran away.

The second time they came to the wedding, the groom's room caught fire and he went missing.

Just moments ago, they were praising Miss Weaver's devotion, but upon further reflection, it's terrifying. Could it be that Miss Weaver is a black widow?

Why else would Omari's room catch fire? I heard he was dead drunk last night and probably still hasn't sobered up.

With the fire being so intense, a drunken person might have lost all feeling and, perhaps... couldn't find a way out because they had already turned into ashes.

The one who regreted the most was none other than Leon.

At this moment, his complexion was gloomy and he was staring intently at the damaged French window on the second floor.

He silently prayed, hoping that Omari escaped by jumping out the window.

As long as he was safe, even if he didn't want to marry Miss Weaver, he would accept it. Nothing was more important than life.

However, after the fire was put out, the firefighters found a metal cross necklace with a circular pendant engraved with the words "Cheyenne".

That familiar handwriting was Omari's for sure.

It must have been something he treasured dearly, always kept on him, otherwise it wouldn't have appeared at the scene of the fire.

Elsa, witnessing this scene, could no longer remain calm. Her calm facade was shattered, and a hint of mockery emerged in her brown eyes.

"He can't forget her even in death, what a shame... I've lost interest in Omari now."

"I, Elsa, hereby declare the annulment of the union with the Lara family. I unilaterally break up with Omari Lara!"

"Mom, let's go."

She raised her hand and defiantly tore off her own veil.

The lightweight white lace veil was swiftly blown up by a gust of wind, twirling in the air like a feather before slowly descending.

The carefully arranged bridal hair was disheveled, and her cascading curls tumbled down.

The exorbitantly priced crown fell from mid-air to the ground, making a faint sound, the largest pearl in the center rolling away.

The luminous white pearls against the green grass created a fresh and clean contrast, then, the fallen veil covered them in the next moment.

She gracefully turned, lifting the hem of her white wedding gown, and decisively walked away.

Mrs. Weaver was gratified to see her daughter's resolute side.

"Mr. Lara, let's call off our cooperation. I will remember the humiliation your family bring upon mine."

Meanwhile, Leon, who was currently in a sorrowful state, was completely focused on worrying about his youngest son Omari's safety, and had no time to deal with this woman's nonsense.

When he heard her threatening remarks, Leon was completely unimpressed.

If only he had been as brave as his son back then, his beloved might not have met an early demise.

Yet, his wife had given birth to their eldest son, and he was a responsible man.

However, he was a coward, a trait in which he was inferior to Omari.

"Hmph, let go of me!" Mrs. Weaver felt that she had won the argument and proudly lifted her chin towards the sky.

She pushed aside Hayden's arm, bent down, wore her shoes elegantly, and departed gracefully, leaving behind countless bewildered guests and journalists, who ultimately left the scene silently.

Wind Hall.

The room was decorated in a traditional style, with wooden floors. In the center, there was a round table surrounded by eight chairs.

On the north wall hung a landscape painting.

Directly beneath the painting was a beautiful daybed, covered with a soft, white furry blanket.

On top of a pillow lay an exquisitely beautiful young woman.

Her chestnut wavy hair was gathered at her chest, partially covering its rounded softness, revealing a graceful curve from the side.

The scene exuded warmth.

Yvonne sat beside her on the daybed, holding a warm towel in her hand, carefully applying it to the bruises on her back.

Yvonne's eyes were filled with distress and pity. "You have such delicate skin. These bruises will probably take quite some time to heal."