A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 120

Roland Lockwood had been deeply infatuated with that mistress and had rushed to the police station in a panic.

She was only twenty-three, an obscure model with a young, incredibly fit lover. When Roland arrived, he lost his mind and attacked her, screaming about her infidelity.

The mistress had simply laughed in his face, mocking Roland for barely lasting three minutes in bed, while her new lover could go for hours without stopping.

The sheer humiliation and rage had triggered a massive heart attack, landing Roland in the hospital.

At just eleven years old, Holden had not only avenged his mother's suffering but had also threatened to sue the mistress for embezzlement of marital assets, successfully terrifying her into returning every cent and property to his mother.

But he didn't stop there.

Using his technical skills, Holden hacked into his father's phone and extracted the contact information for all the other mistresses.

He sent them the security footage of his father violently beating mistress number four at the precinct.

Using his father's phone, Holden drafted a terrifying message, perfectly mimicking Roland's arrogant tone: *[I prefer playing rough anyway. I kicked her right in the stomach. Now I'm calling the authorities in her hometown to make sure her parents' lives are ruined, and I'll make sure her brother has a fatal 'workplace accident'...]*

It worked flawlessly.

While Roland lay recovering in his hospital bed, not a single one of his mistresses dared to visit him. Terrified for their lives, they grabbed whatever cash they had and fled the city permanently.

The memory of that ruthless eleven-year-old boy flashed vividly in Winifred's mind as she looked down at Seth's photo.

Her son's mind was evolving in the exact same direction. He was fiercely intelligent, fiercely protective, and chillingly calculating.

Winifred took a deep breath, forcing herself back to the present.

She needed to eat. She was so hungry she felt like she could devour half the dessert cart on her own. Stretching her fingers, she readied herself to grab a fork and dig in.

She walked out of the bathroom and back into the main bedroom.

She stopped dead in her tracks.

A sleek pink bed-tray table had been set up right in the middle of the massive mattress. The entire afternoon tea spread had been moved onto it.

Iris was sitting comfortably on the bed, eating.

Holden was sitting across from her.

"Holden, you have to try some," Iris cooed, her smile sweeter than honey.

"Mmm~" Iris hummed, pressing a manicured finger to her lips, acting as if she were savoring a vintage wine. "It really is incredible."

Holden seamlessly wielded both forks at once. He targeted a beautiful pastry piled high with fresh cream.

With his right hand, he carved a slice from Iris's side and placed it on her plate. With his left hand, he scooped a massive chunk from his side and ate it.

The gorgeous pastry was reduced to a bizarre, hollowed-out stump, thick on one end, thin on the other, with a lonely spire of cream standing awkwardly in the middle.

Iris finished chewing and polished off her coffee.

"That was amazing. I want another cup," she said, tilting her empty cup to show Holden there wasn't a single drop left.

Holden didn't hesitate. He reached across the table, grabbed the third cup of coffee—the one clearly meant for Winifred—and set it down gently in front of Iris.

"Drink this one."

Iris looked down, feigning hesitation. "I don't know... what if the kitchen made this specifically for Dr. Shultz? Maybe I shouldn't—"

"You're just too kind and considerate, constantly worrying about other people," Holden interrupted softly, his gaze entirely focused on her. "I've told you a thousand times. Stop worrying about her. You are the only one who matters."