Chapter 2

In a split second, everything clicked.

Isabel's fiancé was also an Anderson—an illegitimate son of the wealthiest family in Fairview.

He was also the only heir to the Anderson Group now.

I remembered Isabel showing off, saying that guy had a scar that stretched almost the length of his arm, all because he saved her.

It turned out it wasn't just my father and stepmother, or all those uncles and relatives from the Ochoa family, who loved her.

Even the only person who stuck with me all these years, my bodyguard, turned out that he loved Isabel too.

It was almost funny. My eyes stung, about to burst with tears.

My hand shook as I shoved it into my pocket.

I turned away from him, my voice cold. "Fine.

"Get out. From now on, let's act like we never even existed in each other's lives."

Ronnie stayed where he was, clearly still worried. "What about Isabel?"

"Get out!" I yelled.

It was only then that I noticed the tremor in my voice.

There were no backups of the evidence.

After ten years together, I'd already put all my trust in Ronnie.

He finally got to his feet.

He walked to the door of the hospital room, paused, but didn't look back.

His voice was hoarse as he said, "I'll pay you back every dollar. That's the price for Isabel to rest in peace.

"I promised to protect you for ten years. There are still two weeks left, and I'll see it through."

Rest in peace?

That bitch who killed my mom and my brother, and her mother—they deserve to rot in hell for what they did.

I lost it. I snatched up my phone and threw it right at him.

Ronnie couldn't dodge in time—the phone smacked him on the forehead, blood trickling down and clouding his vision.

For the first time, I saw raw disgust in his eyes—he didn't even try to hide it.

Without another word, he strode out, not once looking back.

I went to the door, picked up my phone, and decided to head downstairs for some air.

As I walked down the hallway, I turned the corner and overheard Ronnie talking to someone.

It was the Anderson family's butler, his voice full of disgust and confusion.

"Why would you stay by the side of a woman who's so ruthless, so malicious, for ten years?" he asked.

Ronnie's face was cold as he wiped his chin and forehead with a handkerchief.

Even though he was hurt, he scrubbed at his skin as if trying to erase the filth where I'd touched him.

Then, with a look of utter disgust, he threw the handkerchief away.

He said coldly, "If I hadn't been watching her every move, would it really have taken her ten years to find that so-called evidence?

"Isabel was naive. She only made one mistake.

"She's gone, but she just won't let it go."

It felt like someone socked me right in the chest, knocking the breath out of me.

So that was why he got close to me.

Ronnie let out a soft, almost wistful chuckle, his eyes full of longing.

He said, "But those eyes really do look a lot like..."

I couldn't stand to hear another word. I turned and walked back to my hospital room.

The room was dead silent, so quiet it felt like even the air had frozen.

It felt like the cold from the snow outside had crept into the room, chilling me to the bone.

After everything—barely making it out alive, battered and broken—not a single person bothered to visit me.

I clutched my phone, my thumb tracing the photo taped to the back.

In that picture, Mom was holding me close, and my brother stood right beside us, gripping my hand like he'd never let go.

I was the only one staring at the camera; their eyes were all fixed on me, like I was their whole world.

There was no one left on this earth who'd ever look at me that way again.

I traced my brother's face in the photo, my voice soft and barely audible.

I said, "Hey, I'm coming to see you, okay?"

Maybe the dead really did linger as spirits.

I had nobody left to talk to. So I wanted to go and talk to him.

*****

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, I booked a flight to Havenbrook for a week later.

I got a realtor to help me buy a place over there.

After my brother died, I didn't bring his ashes back to Fairview.

Instead, I had him laid to rest together with Mom in Havenbrook.

Fairview was nothing but trouble for me.

Mom died here, and my stepmother even desecrated her grave. She almost lost Mom's ashes forever.

My brother and I grew up here, enduring endless torment from my stepmother and stepsister.

Havenbrook was far away, but with my family buried there, at least I could finally breathe easy.

I packed my things and called my lawyer.

I told him to get the Ochoa Group shares transferred to my name, along with everything else, and to get it all done in a few days.

What was mine, and what belonged to my brother and mother—no one else was getting a single cent.

After ten years, I finally fought my way back to what was rightfully mine.

And I finally cut ties with my so-called father for good.

My plan was to lay bare the truth about Isabel and her mother, and then finally tell Ronnie how I really felt about him.

I snapped myself out of it.

But the bitterness still lingered, bleeding through my heart like ink spreading across water.

It was fine.

I only needed a little time.

Even a pet I had kept for ten years could stir up emotions.

When I went out to do some shopping, Leila Schmidt, the new maid from the Ochoa family, stopped me at the door.

She had come all the way to my place to tell me, "Mr. Ochoa wants you to come back."

I didn't want to deal with it.

She wouldn't leave. She hesitated, then said, "Kaylee, it's your birthday today."

I stood there for a while before I remembered.

How time flew. My brother died when he was twenty, and I was just eighteen.

Now, I was twenty-eight—eight years older than he ever had the chance to be.

Once I left, I'd never come back.

Suddenly, I remembered the lily on the windowsill in my brother's room at the Ochoa mansion.

The flowers had long since wilted, but the pot was something he'd made with his own hands.

When I moved out of the Ochoa mansion, I left in such a rush that I never got the chance to take it with me.

I figured I should go back and get it.

Just as I was about to get in the car, a familiar voice called out from nearby. "Kaylee, I'll come with you."

I turned and saw Ronnie standing right in front of me.

His car was parked close by—guess he heard me talking to Leila.