The Flower That Grew from Ashes novel Chapter 117

She grabbed handfuls of Clarissa's lavish wedding gown, screaming and swinging at her like an absolute madwoman.

"Waaaaaah!"

Terrified by the horrific scene, little Manuel let out a piercing, ear-splitting wail from Clarissa's arms.

Dizzy from the blows, Clarissa could only instinctively curl up to shield the toddler, letting Lizzie's fists rain down on her.

Right in the middle of this chaotic, horrifyingly ugly brawl.

A sound no one expected suddenly cut through the air.

It was Manuel.

The two-year-old, who barely even knew how to speak.

Sobbing hysterically in sheer panic, he struggled out of his mother's frantic embrace. Reaching out with two chubby little hands, he pointed instinctively toward a very specific spot in the crowd and cried out clearly.

"Daddy!"

Those tiny hands weren't pointing at Elias's black-and-white memorial photo on the stage backdrop.

Nor were they pointing at some random stranger in the crowd.

They were reaching straight past the chaos, pointing directly at the man standing a few feet away—the pale, frozen man who had been acting like a bystander this entire time. Hackett.

In moments of sheer terror, a toddler instinctively seeks out the person they trust and rely on the most.

That single cry of "Daddy" sliced through the dead-silent room like a red-hot needle, overriding the screams and the fighting.

It pierced straight into the ears of every single person present.

Instantly.

All the noise stopped.

Annelise stood quietly in the corner.

Elias's tall figure acted like an impenetrable fortress, shielding her from the absolute wreckage unfolding around them.

She watched it all happen.

She watched the arrogant man who had mercilessly trampled all over her get utterly annihilated in front of everyone, doomed by a single word from his own son.

After enduring endless agony and despair, her lips finally curved upward.

It was a cold smile, tinged with the sweet vindication of revenge.

She didn't need to say another word.

Her child had been butchered by their hands.

And now, their child had delivered the final, fatal blow on her behalf.