Crown of Wrath

Amelia Hopewell was found by her biological father and brought home. That same day, she discovered a bodyguard, Edmund Nash, barely clinging to life after being tormented by the false heiress. She used half her blood to save him.

Later, when Amelia's father fell gravely ill, all the family's assets were secretly frozen by a notorious crime lord.

In desperation, Amelia sought Edmund's help. Instead, she witnessed the crime lord's second-in-command standing respectfully before him.

"Mr. Nash, if Miss Hopewell's father doesn't get surgery within three hours, he won't survive," the man said.

"The company's success owes much to the money Miss Hopewell gave you. Are you sure you won't reveal your true identity to her?" he asked.

Edmund toyed with an expensive sapphire necklace, his eyes cold and detached.

"For the next three hours, ensure Amelia Hopewell doesn't borrow a single penny," he ordered. "Rosalyn said if Amelia's father gets the surgery, she won't let me step foot in her room again. What a vengeful little girl."

Amelia realized the crime lord who had been crushing her family's business for three years was none other than her beloved fiancé, Edmund Nash.

...

"Rosalyn still refuses to eat?" Edmund asked. "Send her this necklace. I remember how much she loves sapphires," he instructed, handing a ruby necklace to a subordinate.

His friend frowned. "I thought you kept Rosalyn confined to get revenge. Turns out you're treating her like a pampered pet. That spoiled heiress nearly killed you multiple times, yet you don't seem to hate her at all. Now you're letting Amelia, the woman who saved your life, watch her father die just to please Rosalyn. Aren't you worried about the fallout? Your wedding is next Monday."

At the mention of Amelia, Edmund's smile faded. He pulled a plain silver necklace from his pocket.

"I'll make it up to Amelia in other ways. Even if she learns the truth, she won't leave me. Want to bet she'll treasure this silver necklace I gave her?" he said confidently. "Rosalyn's different. She may be the false heiress cast out by the Hopewells, but she still carries that innate elegance Amelia will never have."

After a pause, he added, "That's what draws me to her most."

His friend gasped. "So you're admitting you've fallen for Rosalyn? If so, why not come clean to Amelia and call off the wedding?" he pressed.

Edmund propped his chin on one hand, the other gently tracing a photo of Rosalyn he kept hidden in his pocket. His eyes softened, unguarded. "I want Rosalyn to feel a bit of pressure. How else will I tame that proud little wildcat?"

His words wrapped around Amelia's heart like a tightening net, the pain so intense she could barely breathe.

She gripped the wall, her nails digging into the paint, barely keeping herself upright.

On her way back to the hospital, Amelia called every friend and relative she knew to borrow money. Some claimed they were short on funds; others didn't answer. It was clearly Edmund's doing.

When Amelia returned to the hospital room, her father was down to his final breaths.

"Amelia, it's my fault you suffered so much, lost in the world while my enemy's daughter lived in luxury as you," he said weakly. "My greatest worry is you. Promise me you won't delay your wedding to Edmund because of my death. The Hopewell family is being targeted. I need someone to protect you."

Amelia, who had once eagerly planned her wedding to Edmund, fell silent.

She didn't tell her father that the man he trusted to protect her had pushed them into ruin.

To ease her father's passing, Amelia nodded in agreement.

As her father's hand fell limp, Amelia closed her eyes in agony, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I won't marry Edmund," she whispered.

"Everything he took from me, I'll make him pay back," she vowed. "For this betrayal, I won't rest until justice is served."

She pulled out her phone and dialed a former subordinate. "Within three days, I want Edmund Nash bankrupt."

Edmund returned home at dawn.

An urn containing Amelia's father's ashes sat on the table. Amelia curled into a small ball, hugging her knees with her head buried.

The sudden light startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the face she once loved deeply. Now, it churned her stomach.

Edmund placed a box of cash beside her, his face blank.

"I got this today, but it was too late. Don't be too upset. I'll honor your father's wishes and go through with the wedding. Rest early," he said.

His words lacked warmth, each one sounding like a rehearsed line.

Amelia once thought this was just Edmund's nature-proud and unyielding. No matter how cold he seemed, she always met him with warmth.

But after seeing his attentiveness to Rosalyn Hall, she found it all pointless.

Edmund paused at his bedroom door. Normally, after something like this, Amelia would throw herself into his arms, sobbing and begging him to stay.

He turned back, pulling out the silver necklace.

"I passed by a shop today and thought this suited you, so I picked it up," he said.

Amelia didn't take it.

Edmund had given her many inexpensive gifts before, and she treasured each one.

She always believed his modest means didn't reflect a lack of care.

If he didn't care, why would he give her gifts on every birthday?

Now, she understood. His "picking it up" was as casual as it sounded.

"You don't like it?" Edmund asked, frowning with irritation. He tossed the necklace into the trash.

His patience was always thin. Yet, Amelia had overheard him tirelessly coaxing Rosalyn to eat after she skipped a single meal.

She looked up at him, a faint smile on her tear-streaked face. "I don't like it. Should a Hopewell heiress wear something so cheap? I think a sapphire necklace suits me better."

She caught a flicker of panic and guilt in Edmund's eyes.

Before he could respond, his phone rang.

Seeing the name on the screen, his lips curved into an unstoppable smile. He walked into the bedroom to answer, offering Amelia no explanation.

Amelia flipped on the TV, which was synced to Edmund's phone. His face, beaming with tender warmth, filled the screen.

"Amelia's father is gone now. Can you give me a smile? You've kept me out of the house for days. Don't forget I gave you that villa in Riverhaven," he said.

Rosalyn, with a haughty smirk, held up the sapphire necklace to her neck.

"Since you put in the effort, I'll let you in tonight. But you'd better be here in half an hour!" she demanded.

"Not a second late!" Edmund agreed eagerly, then left the bedroom.

Amelia's heart felt pierced by countless needles, her breathing tight and labored.

She and Edmund had gone on countless dates, but she was always the one waiting for him to show up late.

Once, she tentatively asked if he could be on time. He stormed off, face cold.

"If you think I'm too late, you don't have to meet me. I have plenty to do, unlike someone who spends all day playing," he snapped.

After that, Amelia never brought it up again.

"Your father's passing was sudden. The company has a lot to handle, so I won't be back tonight," Edmund said.

He grabbed his coat, accidentally knocking the urn off the table.

As it fell, Amelia lunged forward, catching it just in time. Her arm slammed into the table's edge, a deep gash opening across her skin.

Blood stained the floor red. Amelia winced in pain but stayed silent.

Edmund, about to leave, started toward her when he saw the scene. His gaze flicked to his watch, and he stopped.

"I'll call an ambulance to take you to the hospital," he said.

The faint hope in Amelia's heart vanished. As Edmund reached the door, she called out. "I want you to take me to the hospital yourself. What could be more important than your fiancée's safety? If it's company business, I can tell you to ignore it."

Edmund looked at her, puzzled. She rarely spoke to him like this.

"Amelia, don't act like a spoiled heiress. Wait for the ambulance," he replied.

He turned and left without hesitation. As the door closed, Amelia smiled, a single tear falling.

He often said that phrase. She once thought he disliked the bad habits of rich girls. Now she realized he simply thought she didn't deserve to be a Hopewell heiress.

By morning, Amelia's wound was treated at the hospital.

She rushed home and saw Rosalyn holding her father's urn.

"What are you doing?" Amelia demanded.

Rosalyn smirked cruelly and let go of the urn.

Amelia ran forward, but it was too late. Her father's ashes shattered across the floor.

Fury surged. Amelia slapped Rosalyn's face.

As she raised her hand again, a harder slap struck her first.

Amelia fell, her stitched wound splitting open. Blood soaked her sleeve.

Edmund didn't seem to notice. He shielded Rosalyn, gazing at her reddened cheek with concern.

"I told you not to come. He found his real daughter and threw you out. He doesn't deserve your visit," he said to Rosalyn.

Only then did he turn to Amelia, his eyes icy.

"Amelia, Rosalyn lost everything to you. She just wanted to pay respects to the man who raised her for over a decade. What gives you the right to hit her?" he demanded.

Amelia wiped blood from her lips and struggled to her feet.

She looked at the scattered ashes and spoke with biting sarcasm. "Is this Rosalyn's way of paying respects? Can't you see she smashed my father's ashes?"

Edmund's expression didn't waver, as if the ashes were meaningless debris.

"She dropped it. It's not a big deal," he said.

"Even if she meant to, you shouldn't hit someone over a dead man's ashes," he added. "I used to think your rough upbringing made you unrefined. Now I see you're beyond saving. Your father entrusted you to me before he died. It's my duty to discipline you. Bring Thunder in," he ordered.

A subordinate led in a large hunting dog.

Edmund had the ashes mixed into the dog's food.

Realizing his intent, Amelia lunged for the ashes. Edmund grabbed her arm and threw her to the ground.

She tried again to stop him from feeding her father's ashes to the dog. Edmund frowned, annoyed, and glanced at a baseball bat, signaling another subordinate.

"Amelia, this is your punishment for hurting Rosalyn. Keep this up, and don't blame me for what happens," he warned.

When she didn't stop, he ordered her leg broken.

Amelia collapsed, the pain in her shin nearly knocking her out. Blood dripped from her bitten lip, but she didn't cry out.

Her gaze turned icy as she looked at Edmund. Dragging her injured leg, she crawled toward the dog's bowl.

Rosalyn laughed mockingly.

"Years with the Hopewells, and you still act like a street rat from the slums. A grown woman fighting a dog for food?" she taunted.

"I smashed the urn on purpose. So what? Tell your loyal little bodyguard to kill me if you dare," she sneered, her eyes shifting to Edmund with contempt.

Edmund pulled her into his arms, gently ruffling her hair.

"You're the only heiress I've sworn to protect for life. No one else has any claim over me," he said softly.