Chapter 190
Briony remained silent throughout the entire ordeal.
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She moved like an emotionless automaton, trailing after Stewart and Irwin as they stopped at tourist hotspots along the beach and outside the church, dutifully posing for every photo.
Off to the side, Stella and Cedric Clarke watched the picture–perfect “family of three.” Stella’s face was flush with anger, while Cedric stood awkwardly, unsure what to do.
By the time the clock neared eleven, the photoshoot was finally over.
The sun in Accra was at its fiercest, beating down from above. Briony’s normally pale cheeks were flushed pink from the relentless heat.
She wiped the sweat from her brow, glancing around for Stella, when suddenly a bottle of water appeared in front of her.
Stewart offered it to her. “Here, have some water.”
Briony barely spared him a glance. She didn’t take the bottle, her voice cool and detached as she asked, “The pictures are done. Can I leave now?”
“There’s still one last thing,” Stewart replied quietly. “Inside the church. Everything’s set.”
Briony let out a cold laugh. “The divorce ceremony, right?”
Stewart hesitated but then arched an eyebrow. “So you already know.”
“Stewart, it’s just a myth,” Briony said, her tone icy. “Even if it were real, why would you go through with it?”
His gaze darkened. “After today, it won’t be a myth anymore.”
She shook her head, unimpressed. “You’re unbelievable.” She turned away. “I need to use the
restroom.”
Lifting the hem of her dress, Briony swept past him toward Stella.
Stella hurried over to help with her dress, whispering, “He’s really going through with this divorce ceremony?”
Briony nodded, glancing at the back seat of the car. “Star, could you grab my things?”
“Of course!”
Inside the church.
Fresh flowers adorned the pews, a deep red carpet stretched to the altar, and a string quartet played softly as the staff and photographers took their places.
In truth, the so–called “divorce ceremony” wasn’t pure legend. Over the past couple of years, a
Chapter 190
trending song called “Divorce in the Republic of Ghana” had made such ceremonies
unexpectedly popular, and local wedding planners were quick to cash in.
Since last year, some companies had begun to offer bespoke “divorce ceremonies” as part of their services.
Stewart had spared no expense to hire one of these companies for today’s event.
The result was a grand, formal affair.
Stewart stood at the altar in a crisp white tailcoat, looking every bit the poised and elegant gentleman.
In the pews, only the wedding company staff, Cedric Clarke, and Irwin were seated.
The elderly priest stepped onto the altar, glancing first at Stewart, then at the sparse crowd, a complicated expression on his face.
This was the first time in his long career that he’d been asked to preside over a “divorce ceremony” at the request of a foreign client.
The husband had rented out the entire beachfront and church for the day and paid handsomely for his presence.
Not seeing the bride, the priest turned to Stewart. “Mr. Wentworth, where is your wife?”
He’d barely finished the question when the heavy church doors swung open, making everyone turn to look.
Briony entered, dressed in a simple black dress, her footsteps steady as she walked down the red carpet.
Stewart’s brow furrowed at the sight.
Irwin tugged on Cedric’s sleeve, frowning. “Why did Mom change out of her wedding dress? She’s all in black–it’s not–mmph!”
Cedric quickly covered the boy’s mouth, whispering, “Not now, champ. Things are complicated enough as it is.”
Briony had swapped her wedding gown for a black dress.
In that instant, Cedric finally understood why she’d been so calm all morning. She’d seen this coming–she’d been prepared from the start.
She knew exactly what Stewart had planned, and she had no intention of letting him control how it would unfold.
The ceremony would go on as Stewart wished, perhaps, but not on his terms.
Briony was finished playing by his rules.
