From Deadbeat To Doting; Something Is Wrong With My Husband!-Chapter 32: Ronnie Edwards

Lucian was standing alone. The wind caught his coat, making him look like Batman against the grey sky. Brianna couldn’t see his face, but from the set of his shoulders, he looked... heavy.

Her breath hitched as Lucian knelt. And he placed a bouquet of white lilies—not the rare roses his mother loved, but simple, humble lilies—on a fresh grave. He stayed there for a long time, his head bowed in a way that didn’t look like prayer. It looked like a silent apology.

He hasn’t lost any family members recently. So who is this?

As Lucian turned to head back to the car, Brianna grabbed Rochelle’s arm. "Go. Get the car started and bring it to the side gate. I need to see the name on that grave."

"You’re staying here? In the city of the dead? Alone?"

"Go!"

Rochelle rushed away, muttering about dry cleaning bills and ant bites. Brianna waited until the sound of Lucian’s feet faded into the distance before she emerged from behind the headstone.

She walked toward the grave, her heart hammering against her ribs. She reached the lilies and looked down at the headstone.

RONNIE EDWARDS

1992 – 2025

"A life lived so short is still a life."

Ronnie Edwards.

Brianna furrowed her brows; the name meant nothing to her. The man had died months ago, right around the time Lucian was in the hospital. Was he a friend? A business partner?

He surely was someone whom’s death he missed; since he was in the hospital.

But... How is any of this connected to the interrogation from Thomas? Was he checking in here because he had time before going to meet with Rosa?

Brianna pulled out her phone, clicking the shutter as she took a photo of the name. She opened an encrypted app and sent the image to the that person.

[I need you to do a deep dive into EVERYTHING about this name. Bank records, medical history, family ties. Now.]

A second later, Zero responded with a thumbs-up.

She stared at the screen blankly, not knowing if this was important or not. Though her hunch told her to investigate.

Meanwhile, at the side gate, Rochelle sat in the idling car, tapping her foot so hard it felt like she was trying to drill a hole through the floor mat. She kept checking the rearview mirror.

"Where is she?" Rochelle groaned, slapping the steering wheel. "If a ghost takes her, I am definitely not explaining this to the police."

In the distance, Lucian reached his car. Before stepping inside, he paused, turning his head turned while his gaze briefly swept over the Rolls-Royce parked at the back entrance.

Rochelle gasped and ducked instantly, as she pressed her back against the leather seat with a racing heart. She waited, counting the seconds, before slowly peeking over the dashboard to see if he was approaching.

Then, she caught her own reflection.

"Rochelle, what are you doing?" she hissed to herself, slapping a palm over her forehead in shame. "Your windows are 100% tinted. He can’t see a thing."

Lucian’s car finally pulled away. Just as it disappeared, Brianna slipped into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

"Drive."

Sighing with relief, Rochelle stepped on the gas. "So? Did you find anything worth my dignity?"

"Not exactly," Brianna murmured, her eyes fixed on the "Zero" chat on her phone.

"What does that mean? Was my sacrifice to the grave ants in vain?"

Brianna made a hesitant, distracted sound. "Precisely."

Before Rochelle could react, the car’s radio crackled to life, breaking the heavy silence.

"A sudden atmospheric shift has triggered a Severe Wind Warning for the metropolitan area. Residents are strongly advised to remain indoors from 6:00 PM tonight until 3:00 AM tomorrow. Secure all outdoor furniture and prepare for potential power outages..."

Rochelle glanced at the darkening sky swirling like bruised ink. "Mrs. Colburn, did you hear that? The winds are going to be heavy. Maybe we should turn back?"

She glanced at the time, "If we turn now, we could make it to a hotel before 5pm."

Brianna didn’t even look at her. Her eyes were fixed on the black Cadillac as it pulled into a bank plaza.

"Not yet. Lucian and Thomas aren’t going home. We follow."

The black car stopped in front of a row of ATMs. Usually, a man like Lucian Colburn didn’t even carry a wallet, let alone visit an ATM. But then the doors opened.

Coming down was Thomas, before two stone-faced bodyguards followed. Brianna and Rochelle ducked instinctively, peering over the dashboard as Thomas inserted a card and the bodyguards opened a black metallic briefcase.

The machine began to whir—a steady, mechanical song of high-limit withdrawals. They weren’t stealing; they were filling up the briefcase.

"What on earth..." Whispering, Rochell’s eyes widened. "They’re filling a briefcase with cash. Why do you need that much liquid money at 4:00 PM on a Tuesday?"

When the first briefcase was filled and clicked shut, a bodyguard reached back into the car and pulled out a second one.

Brianna was stunned. Lucian was the President of a conglomerate; he could move billions with a single digital signature. If he was withdrawing physical cash in briefcases, he was going somewhere where there could be no digital trail. He was going to pay someone off... was he going to pay Rosa off?

Grumble.

The sound was loud enough to echo in the car. Brianna turned to Rochelle, who was blushing furiously.

"I’m sorry. The stalking have burned all my calories."

Brianna glanced out the window. There was a 24-hour fast-food drive-through just a few yards away from the ATM plaza. Lucian’s men were still on briefcase number two.

"Go. Use the drive-through. We can watch them from the queue."

Rochelle didn’t need to be told twice. She maneuvered the Rolls-Royce into the line. As she reached the speaker, she glanced at her boss. "Do you want something? I know you don’t eat this ’peasant food,’ but your stomach just made a very un-Goddess-like sound."