Chapter 2

My hands balled up tightly.

"Funny, the doctor just told me I might live to a hundred. Sorry to let you down, Mr. Harrington," I replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I turned and walked away without a backward glance.

"Olivia, if you're smart, disappear from Riverside City. I'll treat your appearance today as nothing but an accident," Landen said, his voice cold as steel.

A cold shiver shot up my spine, and I couldn't help but feel a wave of dread.

Once I got home, I went out again to the supermarket to grab a few things.

By the time I got back, it was already evening.

A bunch of neighbors were gathered outside my door.

Something didn't feel right, so I rushed over.

The front door was wide open, and inside, everything had been completely trashed.

The groceries slipped from my hands and tumbled to the floor.

I bit my lip hard.

The neighbors at my door quickly dispersed.

I took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen. The fridge was hanging open, and even the insulin I'd kept chilled was smashed and scattered across the tiles.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I collapsed onto the floor, the jagged glass biting into my skin, pain shooting through me.

A chill ran down my spine as I realized someone was standing behind me.

"Ms. Lane, Mr. Harrington says you broke the agreement by coming back to Riverside City," the person said, voice cold.

"Consider this your warning," they added.

With that, the person tossed the words over their shoulder and started to walk away.

My eyes were rimmed red, stinging with emotion.

"Tell him, whatever he wants, I'm not backing down. I belong here. If I have to die, I'll die in this city," I said, my voice cold and resolute.

Three days later, I showed up at the largest cemetery in Riverside City, picking out a prime spot.

Once I'd made my choice, the salesperson started getting the paperwork ready.

While I was waiting, an injured cat scrambled over the wall and landed at the foot of it, looking battered.

I walked over and gently scooped it up.

"Don't be scared. After I sign the papers, I'll take you to the vet," I murmured to the cat.

"Mr. Harrington, Mr. Sullivan is waiting for you upstairs," someone called out.

I looked up in a flash.

My eyes met Landen's.

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's here for..." Landen asked, suspicion in his voice.

The manager leading him quickly answered, "This lady is here to buy a grave site. She's already picked one out."

"Wait, don't—" I blurted out, trying to stop the manager.

But I was too late to stop him.

Sure enough, a cold smirk curled on Landen's lips.

"Is that so? Then she won't be getting a grave here," he said, his voice icy.

"Take back the contract. I'll handle it with your boss," he added, leaving no room for argument.

I held the kitten close, my heart aching with every beat.

"Landen, when I die, I still need somewhere to be buried, don't I?" I said, my voice trembling.

He paused for a second on the stairs.

Landen shot me a cold look. "Ms. Lane, where you end up after you die has nothing to do with me."

My vision started to blur.

Late-stage cancer would mess with my sight sometimes. Thankfully, it never lasted too long.

"Doesn't your conscience ever bother you, stealing a grave from someone who's dying?' I asked, my voice trembling.

"Not at all," Landen replied.

After that curt reply, he strode upstairs without another glance.

Clutching the kitten, I stumbled out of the cemetery, my vision swimming, everything a haze.

Someone followed me out.

"Miss, I know somewhere you can still buy a grave," the person offered.

Just some handyman who did odd jobs around the cemetery.