Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 669

Damian wouldn't hear of it. "Just stay put. Let me handle this."

She didn't argue. Quietly, she thought to herself that Damian deserved every good thing life could offer—and she wasn't sure she was one of them.

Before she realized it, they had been moving through the cemetery for some time.

Scarlett felt the wheelchair come to a stop. Assuming they'd reached their destination, she looked up—and instantly went pale.

Directly ahead, a headstone had been pushed over and lay face-down on the frozen ground.

Behind it, the burial urn was shattered, its contents long since scattered.

A light dusting of snow had settled over the toppled stone and broken ceramic. It was clear this had happened days ago.

Scarlett turned toward Damian, stunned. He rushed forward like a gust of wind, dropped to his knees, and began brushing the snow from the headstone with his bare hands.

As the snow fell away, a photograph was exposed—a black-and-white portrait now stained with some kind of red substance. It was impossible to tell whether it was blood or something else.

And right beside the photo, one crude, spray-painted word glared back, "WHORE."

Scarlett could see Damian's hands trembling. She heard his voice, shaky and raw, whisper, "Grandma... Grandma..."

He wrapped his arms around the stone, scanning the area frantically. Tears streaked down his cheeks.

Worried, Scarlett instinctively reached out and placed her hand gently on his shoulder. "Damian, this is..."

She wanted to comfort him, but words failed her.

It was obvious this had been done on purpose.

Damian held a high-profile position—there were plenty who envied him, and others who saw him as competition.

But who would be cruel enough to desecrate a family grave?

The thought alone sent a chill through her.

A long moment later, Damian finally steadied himself. When he turned, his face showed neither grief nor rage—but deep in his eyes, there was a flicker of something cold and unforgiving.

Scarlett watched him anxiously. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head, then took her hand in his. His skin was icy, but she didn't pull away, letting his fingers rest against the back of her hand.

After another stretch of silence, his voice came out rough and low. "From the look of it, this was intentional."

Scarlett nodded. She tried to help him up, but instead he took her other hand. He offered her a faint, tired smile. "Scarlett, I'm okay. I'll have Brett come pick you up and take you home."

She frowned. "What about you? What are you going to do?"

Sitting in the wheelchair, she leaned forward, wanting to reach out again, but he gently stopped her. "Stay still. The ground's cold. You'll hurt yourself."

So she could only watch as Damian worked in front of her. He picked up the broken pieces of the urn, then took out a pocket knife and tried to scrape away the spray-painted insult.

But no matter how carefully he worked, the letters wouldn't fully come off.

And the photograph was ruined beyond saving, soaked through with that ugly red stain.

It wasn't long before Brett arrived.

"Mr. Langley." Brett's voice was hushed as he took in the scene, his expression shocked.

Damian dusted the snow and dirt from his pants and stood, then went to push Scarlett's chair.

Not a word passed between them as they made their way out of the cemetery.

Scarlett sat silently, her mind racing with worry. Several times, she almost spoke, but nothing she could say would change what had happened.

In the end, she kept quiet.

When they reached Brett's car, Damian lifted her carefully into the passenger seat.

Then he leaned in, cradled her face in his hands, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.