Chapter 390 At the Chapel
The tremor in Tilda’s body told her the truth. Behind Abram’s calm smile lay a graveyard of the people he had buried himself. The legend about the master of the Bells was no lie.
More members began to arrive. From Aiden’s side came Nathan, the eldest son. He was the same man Tilda had seen at The Melting Spoon. He wore a dark suit. The man nodded at Abram and stepped back to wait in silence.
From the third branch came Jarrett, and that caught Tilda off guard. He walked in with his head lowered, and his face was grim. The guy mumbled a stiff greeting to the elders before sliding into the shadows of a corner.
Tilda leaned close to Jude and whispered, “Jarrett looks like he doesn’t even want to be here. Why’d he show up?”
“You know him?” Jude’s eyes narrowed with a sharp gleam that cut straight at Jarrett. Jarrett carried the Bells’ bloodline, and he had youth, charm, and rank on his side. To Jude, that alone made him a threat—a rival for the love of Tilda. Jude had no idea, until a moment ago, that Jarrett and Tilda had spoken before. They were close enough for her to call him by name.
“Jude, stop being jealous or I’ll smack you,” Tilda muttered, rubbing her forehead. Life with this possessive man would never be dull.
Jude let out a sharp, cold breath. “Probably got dragged here against his will. His whole branch can’t handle blood. I always thought his luck was rotten. He always winds up in the middle of the worst messes.”
“Yeah. Poor guy,” Tilda sighed, pity slipping into her eyes.
But her sympathy only made things worse for him. Jarrett suddenly felt a stare stab into him like ice, sharp as a blade. His body shook, the hair on his arms rising, and his eyes darted around the room but found nothing. Still, it felt like the weight of a predator had locked onto him. It was the same feeling he had when he first met Jude, and Jude was already the head of the Bells back then.
Then came Ryan, Daphne, and Preston. They were dragging Rebecca with them. She looked like a ghost. Half her hair was gone, her eyes were sunken and bruised, her skin was pale, her nose was bent, and her veins were blue under the bloodless flesh. The moment she stepped into the chapel, she already knew her fate. Despair clung to her like chains, but when she saw Abram, she dropped hard to her knees.
“Grandpa, I’m sorry. I swear I’m sorry. I should never have dragged the Bells’ name through the mud. Please, forgive me. Just this once. I’ll never do it again. I promise I won’t.”
Her voice cracked as she sobbed, clinging to the only hope she had left. If he would spare her, then she would live. She would have another chance at life. She slammed her forehead against the chapel floor, over and over, until the sharp crack of bone on stone rang through the vaulted hall. Blood streamed down her face, staining her skin purple and blue.
Jarrett turned away, his soft heart unable to bear the sight. Nathan’s face stayed blank, his thoughts hidden. Preston’s hands curled into fists, guilt burning through him. Rebecca had failed them and humiliated them, but she was still his sister. He had grown up with her, protected her, and spoiled her, yet now her mistakes had nearly destroyed their branch. Daphne’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at her daughter. She had carried her, raised her, and loved her, but Ryan’s presence pressed against her like iron. As his wife, Daphne knew his truth better than anyone else. Anyone who risked the family’s survival had no right to live—not a wife, not a child.
Abram was in no hurry to speak. He did not stop Rebecca as she broke herself against the floor. Instead, he said a quiet prayer to God. The man lowered his head in prayer, rosary beads slipping through his fingers. By the time he finished, Rebecca’s forehead was swollen and bleeding, her face unrecognizable.
“I have always said the one thing the Bells will never allow is family turning against each other,” Abram said in a low voice. “And the other is using our name and wealth outside these walls, only to end up ruined, disgraced, and shamed. If you let the people out there use you and drag our honor into the dirt, then the punishment is clear. So tell me, what will your punishment be?”
His words came quiet and almost tender. It was almost like the voice of a grandfather instead of a man who had taken so many lives.
“Grandpa… I… I…” Rebecca shook, her body folding under the weight of despair. She could soil herself at any moment now, and she had no courage to answer her grandfather.
Ryan spoke first, his tone steady. “We will follow your judgment, Father.”