A Wedding Night Gone Terribly Wrong novel Chapter 338

Holden returned to the interrogation room.

Iris looked up at him anxiously. "Did she leave? Is she going to stop bothering our Jordyn?"

Holden let out a heavy sigh.

"That's not what Vivian and I talked about."

"Why?" Iris's eyes widened in shock. "You know I can't bear to part with Jordyn! How could you not stop Vivian from taking her? You yelled at me today because of Winifred, and now you don't even care about my feelings?"

"Quiet!" the officer warned sharply.

Holden kept his tone gentle and patient.

"Jordyn is better off with her biological mother right now. More importantly, I have to consider your current situation. Getting Vivian to forgive you is the top priority."

Oh!

Iris lowered her eyes.

"You're right... you always think of everything."

Since Holden wasn't present when the abuse happened, he was free to go after giving his statement.

Iris urged him, "Then hurry up and go to the hospital! Chase after her and talk some sense into her. Make sure she signs the settlement. She can't press charges against me."

"I will." Holden turned to leave.

As he reached the door, Iris called out tearfully, "Holden."

"Yeah?" He looked back.

"I'm scared," she wept. "I'm scared to be in here."

Holden offered a reassuring smile. "Be brave. You're my good girl."

Iris managed a relieved smile. "Come keep me company the second you're done, okay?"

"I will," he nodded.

Outside, the sky was growing dark. The biting wind carried flurries of snow.

Holden walked numbly down the sidewalk.

The wind drove snowflakes directly onto the swelling lump on his forehead. As the snow melted against his skin, the bruised flesh felt like a burning coal freshly pulled from a fire, searing him with pain.

He remembered a large pet club nearby.

When he found it, the young owner was still there.

After a brief negotiation, the owner brought out a fluffy, snow-white Bichon Frise.

Holden patted the puppy's rear, and it spun in an eager little circle.

He smiled faintly. "Smart little thing. I'll take it."

He paid, and the owner threw in a pet carrier backpack for free.

Through the howling wind and falling snow, Holden trudged forward on half-frozen legs.

The little Bichon sat in the backpack, peering through the plastic window at the stark black-and-white world outside.

He carried the dog into a high-end jewelry mall.

Tapping on the glass of a diamond counter.

"Do you have any crowns?"

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