Rebirth Swapped Bride: Married to a Ruthless Cursed billionaire Book2-Chapter 165: Sarah’s mom funeral

Chapter 165: Sarah’s mom funeral
The funeral of Sarah’s mother was held in their family mansion.
Now that Sarah’s father had been implicated in legal troubles, former business partners and friends had all distanced themselves, cutting ties without hesitation.
The ceremony was eerily quiet, with even most of their relatives absent.
Sarah single-handedly managed everything.
Stubbornly independent, she refused any help, her exhaustion evident as she moved unsteadily, her frame noticeably thinner.
Suddenly, murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Beauty turned to see Lucas and Drake stride in, dressed in sleek black shirts and trousers.
Their commanding presence sent a wave of excitement through the onlookers, eliciting gasps and whispers.
"Who’s that girl with Mr. Lucas Marson?"
All eyes locked onto the woman beside Lucas, her composed smile sparking a flurry of speculation.
Ignoring them, Beauty turned back to her tasks, carefully arranging floral tributes before Sarah’s mom portrait.
The scorching sun beat down on the mansion’s courtyard, where only a sparse crowd lingered—mostly Marson Corporation employees and a handful of Sarah’s close friends.
The absence of business associates was glaring.
"Sarah, is there anything we can do to help?" Lucas approached, his tone measured as he glanced at the pale-faced woman kneeling beside the portrait.
Behind him, Drake clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking audibly, his heart aching at the sight of her exhaustion.
"No need.
I’m just grateful you came to pay respects to my mother.
As friends, I hope you’ll forgive any oversights in hospitality."
"Sarah," Drake interjected, frustration tightening his voice, "how can you push us away now?
If not me, will you at least accept Lucas’s help?"
Drake frowned as he looked at her, his eyes filled with a trace of heartache, the ridge of his brow twitching slightly.
Sarah remained silent.
Beside her, Ryan helped her up and immediately signaled a servant to bring her a glass of water.
The scorching heat had left her kneeling under the blazing sun for so long that she was on the verge of heatstroke.
"Sarah, go inside and rest for a while," Beauty said, placing a concerned hand on her shoulder.
"You’ve been kneeling for hours in this unbearable heat—your body can’t take it.
I’ll handle things here."
Sarah forced a faint smile, her lips slightly pale, and gently pulled away from Beauty’s grasp, then freed herself from Ryan’s supporting arm.
She lifted her chin slightly.
"I’m fine.
I still need to greet the guests.
Even though Dad isn’t here, I can’t let Mom’s funeral feel too empty."
Drake’s expression darkened.
Without warning, he strode forward and swept Sarah into his arms, catching her off guard.
Her eyes widened in shock as she struggled fiercely.
Ryan moved to intervene, but Lucas blocked him with a cold, deliberate tone.
"Sarah needs rest.
If you care about her, don’t interfere."
Each word was like an icicle, sending a chill down everyone’s spine.
Beauty, who had been about to step in, hesitated and withdrew.
Perhaps, at this moment, Drake was the only one who could truly handle Sarah.
No matter how much she cried, kicked, or even sank her teeth into his arm—leaving deep, bloody marks—Drake refused to let go.
The bedroom door slammed shut behind them.
The servants, well aware of the history between Sarah and Drake, held their breaths, not daring to make a sound as he carried her away.
The moment her body hit the soft mattress, she tried to push herself up—only for him to pin her down, his weight pressing her into the bed.
His face slowly loomed larger before her eyes, inch by inch closing the distance.
"Drake, do you have any idea what you’re doing?
Have you lost your mind?"
"You’re damn right I have!
You’ve driven me to the brink of madness!"
"Drake, think about what you’re doing!
You’re an engaged man now, yet here you are manhandling your ex.
Aren’t you worried your fiancée might get jealous?"
Drake’s piercing gaze swept over her body as he let out a cold, derisive snort through flared nostrils.
"To hell with my fiancée.
Right now, all I want is to make you mine."
Sarah trembled with rage at his words.
She’d always known he was a scoundrel, but never imagined he could sink this low.
What a despicable rogue.
A complete and utter bastard.
"My mother’s body isn’t even cold yet.
If you really want to take me by force on the day of her funeral, I can’t stop you.
If this is Mr. Drake’s idea of fun, then by all means, have your way."
Sarah bit down hard, each word dripping with venom as she spoke.
Her face had gone deathly pale, her unblinking eyes fixed on his face while anger made her entire body quiver.
The corner of Drake thin lips curled upward in a cold smirk.
His well-defined fingers trailed slowly along her arm, his eyes glacial.
So this was how she saw him?
Heh... All those sleepless nights worrying about her—what a waste.
How cruel you are, woman.
"So in your heart, this is the kind of man I am?"
His words struck Sarah like a slap across the face.
Crimson flooded her cheeks, her pupils dilated, and a sudden sting shot through her nose.
"I must have been blind to ever fall for someone like you!
Do you really think I wanted to do all those disgusting things with you?
Just the thought of it makes me sick now—absolutely sick!"
Sarah spat out each word with venomous precision, her lips curling into a bitter smirk as she glared at him, her eyes burning with unshakable resolve.
Eventually, she collapsed into his arms, exhausted, and drifted into a deep slumber.
Watching her peaceful, sleeping face—the soft curve of her brows, the quiet rise and fall of her breath—Drake finally allowed himself a slow, satisfied smile.
Only in moments like this, when she lay utterly still in his embrace, was Sarah truly his.
It had been so long since he’d seen her like this—docile, serene, and completely his.