The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 308

It was obvious that the conversation between Gloria and Fitch hadn't been meant to exclude him. Milford had heard every word clearly.

"Dad, after everything that just happened, you still want me to marry her? Did the Sloan family brainwash you or something?"

Facing his son, Fitch clearly lacked the patience he had shown Gloria.

Fitch shot him a cold glance. "Do you know how many of the guests today are business partners of our family? Rashly canceling the marriage now would only make the Sherwood family a laughingstock! Even now, all you see is romance and feelings. You don't have a single thought for family interests! Is that how I raised you?"

Milford clenched his fists. "But she almost killed Yvonne!"

Fitch was impatient. "You don't need to remind me. I know! Have I ever ignored Yvonne's well-being? Yvonne is my daughter. When the time is right, I will ensure she gets justice, but not now!"

He stared at his son, his tone leaving no room for argument. "The wedding must happen! Once my business is concluded, you can divorce her if you want. Milford! Don't forget, you are the heir to the Sherwood family. Don't disappoint me!"

With that, he turned and left, leaving Milford standing there, cold to the bone.

...

After Tamara was carried out, the atmosphere at the wedding venue became incredibly awkward.

The guests gathered in small groups, maintaining a facade of elegant social etiquette, but the looks exchanged were filled with knowing ridicule. They looked at each other and whispered.

"The bride fainted, the groom vanished... is this wedding still happening?"

Once the girl spoke up, someone next to her immediately chimed in. "Right? That pitiful look she had earlier... I almost believed it."

"What exactly does the Sherwood family see in her? Why insist on marrying such a drama queen?"

"Who knows? Maybe Milford falls for that act? After all, isn't that how she snagged him in the first place?"

Not far away, a young man couldn't stand listening anymore and frowned, speaking up to stop them. "Nothing has been proven yet. How can you be so sure she's faking? What if she's genuinely sick? I think you're all just jealous of her, so you only dare to gossip behind her back like catty shrews!"

As soon as he spoke, the heiresses turned to look at him, their eyes full of mockery and disdain.

"Oh, did we strike a nerve, Mr. Cheney?"