The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 203

Behind Miles, a restless commotion rippled through the living room.

"Where is the bride? Look at the time, she's still not here."

"Miles's new wife sure has a lot of nerve. Making the entire family wait on her very first visit? She thinks highly of herself."

Yvonne fanned the flames with a sarcastic sneer. "It's been over half an hour and there's still no sign of her. It looks like she's trying to establish dominance over the Zimmerman family."

Miles gripped his phone, his knuckles whitening one by one. He didn't argue. He kept his back straight, his expression an unreadable mask of calm.

He remembered the words he had overheard last night—If it doesn't work out, we'll just get a divorce.

So the reason she had agreed so readily to come to Zimmerman Manor, and the reason she had refused to let him pick her up from Luna Atelier, was because she never intended to show up at all.

He should have seen this coming, but a tiny, desperate part of him had still held out hope.

Now, the inevitable disappointment had finally arrived.

She hadn't come. What excuse would she use this time? Her phone died, she overslept, her car broke down...

It didn't matter. She was so certain that he couldn't bear to lose her, that he would always forgive her.

After all, over the past ten long years, he had perfected the agonizing art of waiting.

Miles lowered his gaze and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Alistair spoke up, his booming voice cutting through the chatter to support Miles.

"The weather is terrible today, and we're right in the middle of rush hour. It's perfectly normal for her to be running late. Let's give her a little more time."

With the patriarch's order, the room fell silent, and everyone obediently waited.

The minutes ticked by.

Six o'clock. Six-thirty. Seven o'clock...

He moved from table to table, keeping his posture humble as he toasted each guest.

Alistair sat at the head of the table, his fingers clenched tight. Watching Miles debase himself like this left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was throwing his pride away all for Claire.

When Miles finally reached Victor, Victor didn't stand, nor did he accept the offered glass.

He lazily lifted his eyes and drawled, "Miles, Dad values our traditions above all else. He gathered everyone here just to celebrate your marriage. A blunder this massive isn't something you can smooth over with a few drinks."

Victor continued, his pace deliberate and cruel. "You should stand vigil in the Ancestral Hall for two days and nights. Apologize to our ancestors on behalf of your wife. Only then will we see your true sincerity."

The room erupted in gasps.

The older brother was deliberately making things difficult for the younger—a naked, undisguised humiliation.

"Victor, what do you think you're doing?" Alistair's lips trembled with fury. "We are family!"