FLASH MARRIAGE; CHARMED BY THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE CEO

The following day, before the funeral ceremony began, family and friends were allowed to pay their last respects to the dead in an open casket viewing.

One by one, they all made their way to the visitation room, with heads lowered, eyes moist, and hearts bleeding as they said their final goodbye to Nana Shawls.

The visitation room was steeped in a hush, the kind of quiet that felt sacred—thick with reverence and the scent of lilies, white roses, and lavender.

Soft instrumental music drifted through the air, barely above a whisper, while sunlight streamed gently through stained-glass windows, casting colored light across the floor like blessings.

At the centre, beneath a cascade of delicate floral arrangements, lay Nana Shawl. Dressed in her Sunday best—a pastel blue suit with pearl buttons and a brooch shaped like a dove—she looked almost asleep.

Her hands rested peacefully over her chest, and a faint smile played on her lips, as though she had just whispered a final joke to the heavens.

Blaze stood still for a moment, just inside the doorway, his hand gently supporting Amelia's lower back as they approached the casket.

Amelia, draped in a black flowing dress, seemed to carry not just their unborn child but the aching weight of goodbye. Her eyes shimmered, not with tears alone, but with a kind of awe—as if she were looking at a woman whose spirit still lingered in the quiet grace of the room.

They said nothing at first as they stood, hands clasped, letting their grief settle between them.

Then Blaze leaned in slightly, voice thick with regret and resolution.

"Thank you, Nana… for loving us in ways both fierce and gentle. I'm sorry I let pride and anger cloud my heart for so long. But your unwavering call for love, peace, and unity has opened my eyes to what truly matters. You were more than a good mother—you were the heart that held us all together. I promise, with everything in me, we will carry your light forward and honour the legacy you so beautifully left behind."

Amelia smiled amid tears at her husband's profession. Her tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she rested her right hand briefly on Nana's still fingers.

"I love you, Nana. I always have." She lowered her head, her left hand resting on her belly as she whispered. "It's a boy and you'll meet him someday. I'll tell him everything about you and how your love turned this family around."

Amelia leaned forward and planted a kiss on late Nana Shawl's intertwined fingers. She stole one last glance at the peaceful face and whispered.

"Goodbye, Nana."

With one final look, they turned away and left the room—carrying both the sorrow of loss and the promise of continuation.

-

-

After the final farewells at the open casket viewing, the funeral service proceeded in a solemn mass—a sacred offering of hymns, prayers, and memories.

With heavy hearts and quiet reverence, Nana Shawl's soul was gently commended into the hands of God.

Following the mass, her body was taken to the crematorium for the final rites. Only Gregory and her ageing maternal uncle remained—two silent witnesses to the last chapter of her earthly journey.

As the flames consumed what time could no longer hold, there were no words—just the weight of legacy, love, and loss. When it was done, Nana's ashes were placed in a polished family urn and entrusted into Gregory's hands.

With the ritual completed, and Nana finally at rest, Gregory returned to the mansion.

There, beneath golden lights and the hum of soft laughter, friends and family gathered—not in mourning, but in joyful remembrance.

A love feast unfolded just as Nana had wished: with food, stories, and heartfelt toasts that echoed the warmth of the life she lived and the love she left behind.

Harriet had been quietly biding her time all evening, her eyes never straying far from Amelia. Finally, as the last of Amelia's chatty friends stood to leave, Harriet seized her chance.

"I'll walk you to the door," Amelia said, rising with grace.

Harriet paused mid-step, tray in hand—a peace offering delicately arranged, though her nerves made it tremble slightly.

"Don't bother yourself, cupcake. We'll catch up tomorrow," Stacy chirped, waving Amelia back down with a teasing wink.

Amelia smiled, but there was something shadowed behind her eyes. "Actually... about that," she said quietly, taking Stacy's hand and gently pulling her aside. "There's something you should know."

Blaze, seated a few paces away with Henry, Gregory, and a few of their close friends, tracked Amelia with unwavering eyes. He had seen Harriet inching closer. And although he'd promised Amelia he would be civil, his trust in Harriet was still hanging by a thread. His instincts were on high alert.

As Amelia led Stacy into the quieter foyer, the air between them shifted.

"Please tell me you're not leaving again," Stacy said, her voice dropping with concern as she searched her best friend's shimmering eyes.

Amelia sighed softly, her hand squeezing Stacy's. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But I am."

Stacy's face fell, her breath catching. "But why? Your evil uncles, that wicked stepmother and your stepsister—they're all locked away. You're finally safe. You can stay."

"I know." Amelia's voice was like a balm, gentle but firm. "But the island... it has a healing magic I can't explain. I need to be there. I want to have my baby in peace."

Stacy's eyes welled up as her bottom lip quivered. "So I won't even get to witness my bestie bring a mini-you into the world?" She made an exaggerated crying face that earned a giggle from Amelia.

"When the time comes," Amelia teased, "I'll beg Blaze to fly you and a few of our relatives over."

"As if you even have a say," Stacy scoffed, rolling her eyes while brushing away a stray tear.

"True," Amelia laughed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"So you're leaving tomorrow morning?" Stacy asked, still reluctant to let go.

"Not so early. Blaze and my dad have some important matters to handle first. We'll probably leave by late afternoon... or evening. But I won't be seeing anyone tomorrow. Doctor's order."

"Ugh! I wish you could stay longer," Stacy grumbled. "You already missed Kayla's wedding, and now it looks like you'll miss my engagement party to

Amelia gasped, cupping her mouth in mock horror. "Engagement party?!"

"Yup!" Stacy beamed like a Christmas tree, proudly flashing a dazzling diamond ring.

"Oh my God!" Amelia squealed, hugging her again. "Congratulations, sweetie!"

"Thank you!" Stacy was all smiles, glowing with joy.

"How are you just telling me now?" Amelia pouted.

"Excuse me?" Stacy raised a brow. "Let me refresh your memory: insane family drama, hot husband in jail, mysterious disappearances, oh—and let's not forget, you ghosted us and skipped the country. And now, Nana's death. Today is the first time I've seen you in forever!"

Amelia burst into laughter. "It's only been three or maybe four months!"

"Exactly! An eternity! Don't you know a single day without you feels like a year?"

"Fine, I surrender!" Amelia tickled her side, making Stacy squeal. "Now, spill it—who's the lucky guy?"

"His name is Ramsey..." Stacy's voice trailed off as the two exited the mansion, still chatting like high school girls with shared secrets.

Not far off, Harriet watched—half-hidden behind a pillar, the tray still clutched in her hands, her eyes trained on Amelia. She'd waited all evening, but Stacy's endless chatter had stolen the spotlight.

Then, out of nowhere, a cold voice sliced through her thoughts like a dagger.

"Harriet... right?"

Harriet nearly stumbled forward, the tray rattling in her grasp. She turned—and there he was–Amelia's dangerous husband, Blaze.

He was standing far too close, eyes dark, jaw clenched. She hadn't even heard him approach.

"Why are you spying on my wife?"