Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex

Chapter 149: Walking Down the Aisle

Diane’s POV noveldrama

The prison doors closed behind us with a finality that seemed to echo through my entire body. I clutched Dylan tighter against my chest, my legs shaking as we walked toward the car. Every step felt like I was walking through quicksand, the weight of Liam’s confession crushing down on me.

"You killed my sister," I whispered to no one, the words tasting like poison in my mouth. "You killed Sophie."

Noah’s arm came around my shoulders, steadying me as I stumbled. "Diane, breathe," he said softly, his voice cutting through the fog of rage and grief that was consuming me. "Just breathe."

But I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could see was Sophie’s face, her smile, the way she’d looked at me that last morning when she’d promised to keep the twins safe. She’d died because of him. Because of the man I’d once loved, the father of my children.

By the time we reached the car, tears were streaming down my face. I couldn’t stop them. They came in waves, each one bringing fresh pain as the reality of what Liam had done settled deeper into my bones.

"Diane, please," Noah said as he helped me into the passenger seat. "The twins are going to pick up on your energy. You need to try to calm down."

I turned to look at the twins in their car seats. Dylan’s little face was scrunched up, his bottom lip trembling as he watched me with wide, worried eyes. Danielle was making soft whimpering sounds, her tiny fists clenched.

"I’m sorry, babies," I whispered, trying to wipe my tears away, but they just kept coming. "Mama’s okay. Everything’s okay."

But everything wasn’t okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.

As soon as we pulled into my father’s driveway, I was fumbling for my phone. I needed Joan. I needed my best friend, my rock, the one person who could help me make sense of this nightmare.

"Joan," I said when she answered, my voice breaking on her name. "I need you to come over. Please. I need you right now."

"Diane? Have you been crying?" Her voice was immediately sharp with concern. "What’s wrong? What happened?"

I couldn’t answer. The words were stuck in my throat, too heavy and horrible to speak.

"I’m leaving the office right now," Joan said, her voice firm. "I’m coming to your dad’s house. Just hold on, okay? I’m coming."

Noah was already out of the car, carefully lifting the twins from their car seats. I watched him through the windshield, this man who had become my everything, who was now carrying my children with such gentle care. The contrast between him and Liam was stark and painful.

Mom was waiting at the front door before we even made it up the walkway. Her face was creased with worry, and she was moving better than she had in months, her recovery from the attack almost complete.

"Diane," she said, her voice soft but urgent. "What happened? Why do you look like you’ve been crying?"

Dad appeared behind her, his face immediately hardening when he saw my tear-streaked cheeks. "Did that bastard hurt you?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Did Liam do something to you?"

"Dad," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Please."

But then his expression changed as he really looked at me, saw the devastation in my eyes. His anger melted into pure parental concern, and he rushed to my side.

"What happened, princess?" he asked, his voice gentle as he wrapped his arms around me. "Tell me what’s wrong."

Noah walked in behind us, still carrying the twins, his face pale and drawn. Dad turned to him, searching his face for answers.

"Noah, what happened in there? Why does she look like this?"

Noah opened his mouth but no words came out. I could see him struggling with how to explain, how to put into words something so horrific.

"Can someone please talk to us?" Mom said, her voice rising with anxiety. "You’re scaring me."

I let Dad guide me to the living room, where I collapsed onto the couch next to Mom. She immediately pulled me into her arms, and I buried my face against her shoulder, sobbing.

"It’s okay, baby," she whispered, stroking my hair. "Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together."

Just then, the front door burst open and Joan rushed in, her face flushed from running. She took one look at me and her expression crumpled.

"Oh, honey," she said, crossing the room in three quick strides. "What happened? What did that bastard do now?"

I lifted my head from Mom’s shoulder, my eyes red and swollen. The room fell silent except for the sound of my ragged breathing. Everyone was looking at me, waiting, their faces filled with love and concern and fear.

"Mom, Dad," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The words felt like they were being torn from my throat. "Liam... Liam was the one who ordered the hit on Sophie."

The silence that followed was deafening. For a moment, nobody moved, nobody breathed. Then Mom’s hand flew to her mouth, a strangled sob escaping her lips.

"What?" Dad’s voice was deadly quiet, the kind of quiet that came before an explosion.

"He confessed," I continued, the words coming faster now, spilling out like blood from a wound. "He said he was angry, that he wasn’t thinking clearly. He called Jackson, he gave him the contract, and then... then he tried to call it off, but it was too late."

The room erupted. Mom began crying, deep, wrenching sobs that seemed to come from the very depths of her soul. Dad’s face went through a series of expressions—shock, disbelief, and then a rage so pure and fierce it was frightening.

"I’ll kill him," Dad said, his voice shaking with fury. "I’ll kill him with my bare hands. He won’t make it out of that prison alive."

Joan was crying too, but her tears were mixed with anger. "We’re going to make him pay," she said, her voice fierce. "I’m calling the court first thing in the morning. This changes everything. This is murder, Diane. First-degree murder."

"But he said he tried to stop it," I said, my voice hollow. "He said he came to his senses and tried to call it off."

"It doesn’t matter," Joan said fiercely. "He put the hit out. Sophie died because of him. He’s going to pay for this."

We sat there in the wreckage of this new revelation, holding each other and grieving all over again. The wounds from Sophie’s death, which had just begun to heal, were torn wide open. But this time, the pain was different. This time, it came with a name, a face, a reason.

---

The next morning, Joan was gone before dawn, heading to the courthouse to file the new charges. I sat in the kitchen, staring at my untouched coffee, waiting for the phone to ring.

When it finally did, Joan’s voice was tight with satisfaction.

"It’s done," she said. "The DA is filing murder charges today. Liam’s going to be brought in for trial, and this time, he’s never getting out."

I should have felt relief, or satisfaction, or something. Instead, I just felt empty. Sophie was still gone. My children had still lost their aunt. The damage was done, and no amount of justice could undo it.

But at least now, we had the truth. At least now, Sophie’s death wouldn’t go unpunished.

The weeks that followed were a blur of legal proceedings and media attention. The story of Liam’s confession made headlines everywhere. "CEO Orders Hit on Wife’s Sister," the papers screamed. "Businessman Sentenced to Life for Murder."

Through it all, Noah was my constant support. He held me when I cried, he made sure I ate when I forgot, he took care of the twins when the nanny couldn’t. He was everything I needed and more.

And then, before I knew it, our wedding day had arrived.

---

The day of our wedding dawned bright and clear, a perfect spring morning that seemed to promise new beginnings. But even as I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, I couldn’t shake the shadow that Liam’s confession had cast over our happiness.

"You look beautiful, princess," Dad said from the doorway, his voice thick with emotion. He looked distinguished in his black tuxedo, his silver hair perfectly styled, but I could see the tears he was trying to hold back.

"I can’t believe this day is finally here," I said, turning to face him. "After everything we’ve been through..."

"Sophie would be so proud," he said, taking my hands in his. "She would want you to be happy, Diane. She died protecting your happiness, your future. Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain."

I nodded, wiping away a tear before it could fall. "I know. I just... I wish she could be here."

"She is here," Dad said softly. "She’s in Dylan’s laugh, in Danielle’s smile, in the strength you’ve shown through all of this. She’s here, princess. She’s watching over you."

The music began to play, signaling that it was time. Dad offered me his arm, and together we walked toward the doors of the church.

"Ready?" he asked.

I took a deep breath, thinking of Noah waiting for me at the altar, of the life we were about to build together. "Ready," I said.

Outside, Dylan and Danielle were waiting with their nanny, Sarah. Dylan was wearing a tiny tuxedo and carrying a small pillow with our rings tied to it. Danielle had a small basket hanging around her neck, filled with rose petals.

"Look at my beautiful babies," I said, kneeling down to kiss them both. "You look so handsome, Dylan. And Danielle, you’re the prettiest flower girl in the world."

The church was beautiful, decorated with white roses and baby’s breath. The doors opened, I could see Noah waiting for me at the altar. He was wearing a black tuxedo, and when he saw me, his eyes filled with tears. Behind him stood his groomsmen, all of them smiling with genuine happiness for us.

Dad walked me slowly down the aisle, his own tears flowing freely now. I could see Noah dabbing at his eyes with his handkerchief, completely overwhelmed by the sight of us approaching. Behind us, Dylan toddled along, clutching his pillow, while Danielle tried to scatter rose petals with serious concentration.

I could see Mom and Joan in the front row, leaning on each other, their faces red with tears. Everyone was crying—tears of joy, tears of love, tears for everything we had been through to get to this moment.

When we reached the altar, Dad kissed my cheek and placed my hand in Noah’s. "Take care of her," he whispered, wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand.

"I will sir," Noah promised, his voice thick with emotion.

The ceremony was beautiful. The priest spoke about love and commitment, about the strength that comes from facing adversity together. When he reached the part about objections, I felt my heart skip a beat.

"If there is anyone here who objects to this union," the priest said, "speak now or forever hold your peace."

I held my breath, looking around the church. Everyone was silent, waiting. And then, from the back of the church, a voice rang out.

"Yes!"

My blood ran cold. I felt Noah’s hand tighten on mine as everyone turned to look toward the entrance. My heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst. Was it Liam? Had he somehow escaped? Had someone come to stop our wedding?

"This wedding cannot hold!" the voice continued, and I could hear murmurs of confusion rippling through the crowd.

I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Not today. Not on what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.

I was about to panic when I heard what came next.