A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 193

Winifred tailed Arthur's family, determined to track him down and avenge the night she was thrown into the river.

Up ahead, Ethan shoved a sobbing Claire into their car.

The vehicle departed the hospital, navigating through the downtown traffic, hopping onto the highway, and eventually exiting onto a narrow, winding country road.

They drove from two in the afternoon straight into the evening.

It was early winter—overcast, damp, and bitterly cold.

The car passed through Solis Village, where most of the roadside shops were already shuttered, and continued up the mountain path.

The dirt road was riddled with potholes, creating a jarring, violently bumpy ride.

Winifred’s taxi driver finally had enough.

Slamming on the brakes, he huffed in frustration. "This is a nightmare. I can't drive my car up this mountain."

When she had hailed the cab, she hadn't known the exact destination, only telling him to follow the car ahead.

The entire trip had driven the cabbie crazy.

He had slapped the steering wheel multiple times, complaining loudly to his driver group chat, cursing his terrible luck until he completely ran out of patience.

Understanding his frustration, Winifred paid the hefty fare of over nine hundred dollars without complaint.

Stepping out of the car into the biting wind, she began the long trek up Solis Hill on foot.

While she braved the freezing cold for the sake of her blood feud, Holden Lockwood’s engagement gala was winding down.

Most of the guests had already departed.

Mrs. Sutton and the other Kingsbridge VIPs had taken their private jets back home.

Only a crowd of young, party-loving socialites remained for the after-party.

Holden didn't dance.

No matter who asked him, he flatly refused to make a fool of himself on the dance floor.

Iris Morgan, looking radiant in a sweeping, strapless crimson gown that shimmered like a freshly bloomed rose, was laughing, surrounded by her closest friends.

Kian Jennings suppressed a smirk. "Holden, you've been drinking all day."

Holden deadpanned, "What else is the groom supposed to do? Drink toilet water?"

While the room pulsed with music and laughter, Miles Bauer leaned in and whispered into Holden’s ear. "Leland never showed up."

Yesterday, the event coordinators had received a call from Leland's secretary confirming his attendance.

Having the wealthiest man in the country at an engagement party was the ultimate flex. The hotel had immediately prepped their top-tier presidential suite in anticipation.

Yet, Holden hadn't seen Leland during the entire reception.

During the ceremony, the prime VIP seat right in front of the stage—bearing Leland's nameplate—had sat glaringly empty.

Leland hadn't come.

He said he would, but he didn't.

So where was he?

"Where is she? Did she run off to have a secret rendezvous with Leland?" Holden pressed his fingers hard against his temples, rubbing them viciously.

Miles stared at him, his eyes wide with utter confusion.

Holden didn't elaborate.