Chapter 4

"This..." The security manager instantly looked troubled. He knew this guy wasn’t someone he could afford to mess with—but he was getting paid by the Hawthorne family. And with the girl dressed this terribly inappropriately, letting her in would definitely get him into hot water. He could get fired for this. "I'll take full responsibility," the man said calmly, then turned and kept walking toward the chapel. Once Cassandra saw that the security guy wasn’t stopping her anymore, she quickly opened the car door, pulled out a bag, and caught up with the man. "Thank you!" she quickly wiped away her tears, speeding up behind him. She blinked hard, forcing back the sting in her eyes. The man walked in silence. With his face hidden behind a mask, it was impossible to read his expression, but the heavy sadness surrounding him was practically suffocating. "Sir... were you a friend of Faye’s?" Cassandra couldn't help but ask, her voice low with grief, already pulled into the gloom clinging to him. She’d thought he might’ve been a client of the Hawthorne Jewelry Corporation, but after the way he’d spoken up just now, it was obvious that wasn’t true. Still, she was sure—she had absolutely never met this man. No chance. Just thinking about this funeral made her eyes flash with unfiltered resentment. "Not your business," the man replied coldly. Then he sped up, clearly wanting nothing to do with her. Cassandra paused, a little thrown off, but then started walking again, her steps heavy as she entered the solemn church. Today, she was back—burning with vengeance, more striking than ever. This funeral... was also the day she’d be reborn. Inside the chapel. The masked man stood at the coffin. Looking at the framed photo of Faye—smiling bright, wild, and carefree—he choked up. His heart twisted with pain, eyes stinging behind the mask. His long fingers gently brushed the ring on his fourth finger, a soft, lingering touch. In his heart, he cried out: Faye, you little liar... You lied to me again. Why couldn’t you just wait a little longer... Just then, Cassandra stepped into the chapel—and chaos broke out. Mr. Gerald's face went red with rage the moment he saw her bold red dress. He stormed over, jabbing a finger at her and yelling, "You... Who are you? How dare you show up to my granddaughter's funeral dressed like that? What the hell do you think you're doing? Security! Get her out of here!" Cassandra stared at his face—it looked like he’d aged ten years overnight. Her breath hitched, and her hands clenched tightly around the hem of her dress. Her eyes slipped past him, landing on Mara and Ethan standing near the coffin. Her jaw tightened, fury boiling up inside her. If she had a gun right now, she wouldn't hesitate to shoot that disgusting, fake couple on the spot. But she dragged her gaze back, took a shaky breath, and forced a smile as she spoke—using the tone she'd always used with him in her past life. "Hey, old fox, cool it a bit, would you? You're in your seventies, aren’t you? Should be wise and chill by now. Instead, you're throwing tantrums like a preschooler. Kinda going backward in life, huh?" "You..." Gerald’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. He stared at her in complete shock, speechless. In all his years in the business world, only one person had ever dared to talk to him like that. But that person... was long gone. Not far away, Mara froze at the familiar words. Her heart squeezed painfully. She rushed up to Cassandra with flaming red eyes and pointed at her in rage. "You bitch! You showed up dressed like that—you’re here to ruin my sister’s funeral, aren’t you? Someone throw her out!" For some reason, this woman gave her a deep, gut-wrenching sense of dread. A fear she couldn’t explain.