It was raining heavily, and the bodyguard held an umbrella over Frida.
She walked to the side alone to examine the letter.
No one witnessed the expression of shock on her face.
She tightly clutched the letter, her eyes filled with complex emotions. After a few minutes of internal
conflict, she stowed away the envelope and returned to Maverick’s grave.
“Mom, what did Maverick say?”
Frida’s face bore a look of devastation as she completely disregarded Sheralyn, seemingly oblivious to
her question.
“Mom, what’s wrong with you? Don’t scare me! What did Maverick write in the letter?”
Sheralyn attempted to grab the envelope from Frida’s hand, but the latter skillfully evaded her. Sheralyn
thought it was odd and went to snatch the letter again.
In a moment of desperation, Frida tore and crumpled the letter she had opened before swiftly stuffing it
into her mouth and swallowing it.
“Mom, what are you doing!”
“Mrs. Wright!”
Everyone was stunned by her action.
Instead of giving everyone an explanation, Frida rushed into the rain and hugged the cold tombstone of
Maverick. She wailed, “Maverick! My son, you were still so young. How could you leave me and your
sister behind…”
She howled until her voice was hoarse, and the grief etched on her face touched everyone present,
causing their eyes to unconsciously turn red.
Coming from a prestigious family, Frida had always maintained an air of nobility. It was the first time
she had publicly lost control, embracing the tombstone while crying uncontrollably. Surprisingly, no one
deemed her behavior inappropriate.
Even her act of swallowing the entire letter moments ago was understandable. A mother had lost her
beloved son, after all. Moreover, Maverick was the most promising child of the Wright family.
Frida’s heart was irreparably shattered.
Gwendolyn watched from a distance, her eyes red but devoid of tears, and her expression remained
stoic.
Unnoticed by anyone, her fingertips, concealed beneath Treyton’s suit jacket, dug deeply into her
palms. It was as if her heart had grown so numb that she could no longer feel pain.
In the cemetery, Frida was on the verge of collapsing from her incessant tears. Fortunately, with
Sheralyn’s support and persuasive words, her emotional outbursts gradually subsided.
The funeral finally came to an end. The business partners, relatives, and friends departed one after the
other, each in a somber mood.
Some individuals lamented the untimely demise of a young business genius.
Some individuals sympathized with the two remaining women in the Wright family, recognizing that
their lives would be challenging with Dexter lurking in the background, ready to strike.
After everyone had left, Sheralyn escorted Frida out of the cemetery.
Sheralyn glanced up and noticed Gwendolyn standing under the tree nearby. In an instant, intense
anger surged within her. “It’s all because of you! You’re the cause of my brother’s demise! If it weren’t
for you, why would he be dead? How dare you show your face here?”
Gwendolyn did not argue back but instead lowered her gaze.
Treyton couldn’t bear to see his younger sister getting bullied and said with a cold face, “Mind your
words! She knew nothing about the matter, and this was your brother’s own decision.”
“Knew nothing about it?”
Sheralyn advanced, her eyes ablaze with anger as she locked her gaze on Gwendolyn. “So she thinks
she can absolve herself by feigning ignorance? My brother sacrificed his life for her! But look at her, not
a single tear shed in his memory. She’s nothing but a heartless b*tch—”
“Sheralyn!” Frida stopped Sheralyn before the latter could curse out more profanities.
Sheralyn looked back at her mother in disbelief. “Mom! She’s the one who got Maverick killed! What’s
wrong with scolding her? Don’t you hate her too? Are you out of your mind to defend her?”
Meanwhile, Gwendolyn kept her head down and didn’t refute a word.
With tears still staining her face, Frida approached Gwendolyn and offered a slight bow.
Sheralyn was taken aback. “Mom, do you realize what you’re doing? You’re actually bowing your head
to her?”
Frida disregarded Sheralyn’s words and looked at Gwendolyn before she said in a heavy tone, “I
apologize to you for what my daughter said. She is overwhelmed with grief and speaks without
thinking. I hope you can forgive her.”
Gwendolyn was dumbfounded.
Frida has always been mean to me. Why is she acting so different today?
“Sheralyn is right, I am responsible for his death. Don’t you hate me at all?”
Tears rolled down Frida’s cheeks as she wiped them away with a bittersweet smile. “Mr. Harris is right.
If Maverick made such a choice, it means he must have loved you deeply. I will honor his decision.”
The words “loved you deeply” caused Gwendolyn’s heart to ache, and she felt a slight soreness at the
tip of her nose.
She tightly squeezed her palm, trying to stop the tears from flowing.
Frida retrieved a blank envelope from her bag and handed it to Gwendolyn. “He requested for you to
have this in private. Don’t worry, I haven’t read it.”
Gwendolyn took it with trembling fingers.
Frida added, “Let’s set the letter aside for now. Find a seat and take your time to read it when you go
back.”
With that, Frida and Sheralyn leaned on each other for support and left the cemetery.
Gwendolyn carefully kept the letter inside her bag. After all the relatives and friends who had come to
pay their respects had left, she entered the cemetery and approached Maverick’s tombstone solemnly.
A small photo adorned the tombstone.
Its image was marred by the raindrops that fell heavily upon it.
Nevertheless, Gwendolyn easily recognized the familiar yet aloof countenance with just a single
glance.
It was Maverick.
She had previously scoured her phone and villa for a photo of him but to no avail. It suddenly dawned
on her that she would only be able to behold his image on the tombstone in the days to come.
She delicately wiped the water droplets off the photo, her movements gentle and patient, repeating the
process again and again.
This was the only man she had ever truly loved. From now on, she would never hear his tender
crooning again.
Gwendolyn fought back her tears as she tirelessly wiped off the water stains from the photo.
Treyton’s heart ached as he watched Gwendolyn. “Kiddo, it’s pouring outside. You can’t wipe it dry.”
Gwendolyn’s eyes held a stubborn determination. “He is afraid of the cold and dislikes getting wet in
the rain. I must do this one last thing for him, at least.”
Treyton let out a resigned sigh and handed her the black umbrella he held.
Gwendolyn accepted it, opening it to cover Maverick’s small tombstone. She then took out a
handkerchief and meticulously wiped away every raindrop on the tombstone.
“Kiddo, you still love him very much, don’t you?”
Gwendolyn didn’t answer.
She had once believed that she could let go of her love for him and walk away with grace and
resolution.
Had he still been alive, had their paths never crossed again after the divorce, perhaps they could have
found happiness in their separate lives.
Yet, fate had a knack for playing tricks on her, repeatedly intertwining their lives.
Besides, this man had died for her.
The past torments he inflicted on her suddenly felt trivial, and a wave of guilt threatened to suffocate
Gwendolyn’s heart.
She took a deep breath, suppressing the overwhelming sadness that threatened to consume her.
People could never return once they were gone, so dwelling on love or its absence seemed futile now.
She said softly, “Let’s go.”
Treyton helped her up, placing a protective hand on her slender shoulder, and together they left the
cemetery.
After being sent back to Bay Villa by Treyton, Gwendolyn made her way to Maverick’s room. She
entered the space and settled onto the recliner where he had often lounged, her gaze wandering
around the room.
With the thought of Maverick’s letter lingering in her mind, Gwendolyn opened her bag and retrieved
the envelope, her fingertips delicately tracing the smooth contours of the envelope.
A few days ago, Gwendolyn had believed that Maverick had left her without a word, but now, holding
his letter in her hands, she realized that he had still cared about her, even until the very end of his life.
She carefully unfolded the letter.
The first line of the letter immediately caught her eye.
It read: My dearest Gwendolyn Shalders Harris.
Gwendolyn’s hands trembled uncontrollably as she stared at her name in disbelief.
So he knew my true identity all along?
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Chapter 205 novel The Ex and Her Riches
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