The Extraordinary Bride Of The Wyndham Family (Isla and Gabriel) novel Chapter 151

**Extraordinary Bride 151**

“You did what?” Gabriel’s voice sliced through the stillness of the room, a sharp edge of disbelief and anger coloring his tone. He glared at his father, the tension palpable in the air. “Why on earth would you sign such a document without even consulting us first?”

John, however, maintained an unsettling calmness, his demeanor almost disconcerting in the face of his son’s outrage. “Trust me, Gabriel. I know exactly what I am doing,” he replied, his voice steady and unwavering.

“Father,” Landon interjected, stepping in before Gabriel could unleash another wave of frustration. “Gabriel is absolutely right. Handing over half of what belongs to you to Mother is nothing short of madness. If you want my honest opinion,” he paused, shaking his head as if trying to comprehend the absurdity of it all, “she doesn’t deserve a single penny from this family—not after everything she has put us through.”

In the corner of the room, Wyatt sat with an air of nonchalance, legs crossed and hands neatly folded in his lap. His silence was conspicuous, almost suspiciously so, as he absorbed the heated exchange unfolding before him.

John’s gaze flicked to Wyatt, noting his unusual tranquility. He had always known Wyatt to be the most avaricious of the bunch, the first to raise a ruckus over financial matters. Yet here he was, almost too relaxed for someone whose priorities typically revolved around wealth.

“The divorce agreement has already been signed by both parties,” John stated matter-of-factly. “My lawyer will meet with hers in court today to finalize everything.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenched tightly, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He was far from pleased with his father’s decision. Yet, John was a man of his own making, fully capable of making his own choices. Whether Gabriel approved or not, he was obligated to stand by him.

Landon felt a similar turmoil within. He had no need for Anna’s money; the inheritance held no allure for him. Yet, he couldn’t shake the belief that she was undeserving of any portion of their family’s wealth—especially after the turmoil she had wrought upon their lives.

Finally, John turned his attention to Wyatt. “So, Wyatt, what’s your take on my choice to allocate half of my wealth to Anna as part of the divorce settlement?”

Wyatt shrugged with an air of casual indifference. “I think you did the right thing. After all, she is still our mother.”

His response was telling, revealing everything John needed to understand about Wyatt’s stance.

But John chose to remain silent, letting the moment hang heavily in the air.

***

The day had finally dawned—the day when Alfred Wyndham would be laid to rest. Staff members from every corner of the Wyndham empire gathered at the memorial park, their faces a mix of solemnity and respect. They stood in a hushed assembly, awaiting the arrival of the family.

The Cathedral was already overflowing, unable to accommodate the throngs of mourners, prompting many to make their way directly to the cemetery to wait.

As the family arrived, they were closely flanked by bodyguards, a protective barrier against the world outside.

Additional guards lined the perimeter, while paparazzi and reporters jostled for position, eager to capture every moment of this high-profile event. Police officers patrolled the grounds, ensuring security not just for the Wyndhams but also for the affluent guests who had come to pay their respects.

The burial was a grand affair.

Family members, friends, business associates, government officials, in-laws, and countless well-wishers filled the area. Each had attended the church service earlier that morning and now gathered at the cemetery to honor the man who had profoundly influenced Richbouph’s future.

Despite the heavy cloud of grief hanging over them, the family stood united for this poignant moment.

John, the sole child of Alfred, had yet to arrive at the graveyard, and his children exchanged anxious glances, their eyes darting around in search of him.

Even Anna had been brought from prison, escorted by warders. She stood at a distance, separated from the family by a wall of guards, permitted only to pay her final respects, nothing more.

“Anna Wyndham is in prison?” someone whispered incredulously.

“Since when?” another voice chimed in, curiosity piqued.

But answers eluded them. Even the royal family—her supposed kin—offered her no acknowledgment, having distanced themselves from the disgrace she had brought upon them.

Isla’s gaze fell upon Anna, and a tempest of emotions stirred within her. The sight of Anna reignited the ache of loss, reminding her of the suffering that woman had inflicted upon them all. Tears welled in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks as she sobbed harder, fully aware that Anna’s choices had led to their current heartache.

Attendees donned dark sunglasses and somber attire. The women wore elegant, flowing black dresses, while the men stood tall in tailored suits, each garment a reflection of their shared sorrow.

A sleek vehicle made its way toward the graveyard, moving slowly as a cadre of bodyguards surrounded it, ready to protect its occupant.

Camera flashes erupted like fireworks, the press clamoring to capture the moment, their lenses trained on the unfolding drama.

The car door swung open.

John emerged first, his presence eliciting a collective sigh of relief from his children—until the second door opened.

The priest offered one last prayer.

And just like that, it was over.

Gabriel wrapped an arm protectively around Isla, guiding her away from the somber scene. Stone walked closely behind them, ensuring their path remained unobstructed.

Diana and Charles also stepped forward to pay their final respects before departing.

John and Gladys paused momentarily near Anna.

Their eyes met hers—the woman who had brought them so much anguish.

Anna’s expression was inscrutable, devoid of emotion, guilt, or remorse. Members of the royal family approached her briefly, offering a few polite words, but they did not linger. This was not a moment for theatrics.

“Gabby?”

A woman’s voice called out suddenly, shattering the tension.

Gabriel froze in place. Isla halted beside him, her heart racing.

Isla recognized the voice immediately.

It was Delphine.

She stood at a distance with her parents, hoping to greet him—or perhaps to express something deeper. But Gabriel did not turn to acknowledge her, not even once.

He helped Isla into their waiting car, closing the door gently behind her before sliding in himself.

The car pulled away, leaving the cemetery behind.

One by one, the remaining guests followed suit, departing with heavy hearts, each carrying a piece of Alfred Wyndham within them forever.