Chapter 19
Emily looked at Grayson. Her son’s gaunt face was drained of life, and all she felt was pain.
“Grayson, get up and eat something, will you?”
But he remained motionless, as if sealed inside a world where no sound could reach him.
She had never been fond of Violet, the daughter–in–law who couldn’t hear. But she couldn’t change her son’s mind, so she had no choice but to accept it. Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of other wealthy wives mocking her for having a deaf daughter–in–law. That was why she and her husband had used a business trip as an excuse to skip the wedding.
Yet, they had been gone for only two days, and the entire Warhol family had fallen into chaos
Violet had committed suicide, and even arranged for her coffin to be sent straight to the wedding venue. News of her son’s affair had spread like wildfire. The company’s stock price had plummeted. And now, her son was drowning in despair.
She blamed it all on Violet.
In high society, who didn’t keep a mistress or two? Why couldn’t she have endured it?
When Emily spoke again, her voice carried an edge of reproach.
“Grayson, Violet’s death has nothing to do with you. If she hadn’t been so petty, none of this would have happened.”
At the mention of that name, Grayson finally reacted. His voice was hoarse. “Mom, I was the one who betrayed our vows. I was
the one who killed Violet. I need to punish myself. I need to atone.”
Mr. Warhol had been silent, watching his son’s disheveled, lifeless state. But with the company in crisis and Grayson reduced to
this, he could hold his anger no longer.
He grabbed the tattered wedding dress from the floor and tossed it into the trash. Then, pointing a furious finger at his son, he shouted, “It was you who insisted on marrying Violet! You were the one who wanted to keep a mistress! No one forced you! These were your choices! And now you act like this? Who are you trying to impress?”
Mr. Warhol had always despised weakness, and he wanted his son to snap out of it. But for Grayson, the moment he heard of
Violet’s death, something inside him had died too.
After that, he began drinking. Drinking until he was numb. Until, in his drunken haze, he could see Violet again.
Half a month had passed since Violet’s death. Grayson was at a bar, pouring one drink after another down his throat.
“Violet, are you doing well in heaven? I regret everything. If I had pushed Ruby away a year ago, if I had stayed home with you before the wedding, would things have been different?”
He swirled the liquor in his glass, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. He had replayed these thoughts over and over. But regrets
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