Chapter 4

Now, I was truly dead.

And the moment Nathan found out, I could leave this world for good.

So why should I keep grieving over everything that came before?

I brushed away the last trace of dampness at the corner of my eye, turned my back on the ruined peach grove, and felt nothing—not a single ripple in my heart.

Over the next few days, I drifted like an outsider, watching the three of them—father, mother, son—live their perfect, harmonious life.

No one in the Hartwell household mentioned me. No one noticed I was gone.

Not that it surprised me. After all, my living quarters were in a storage room in a small building several hundred yards from the main villa. Hardly anyone ever went there. It made perfect sense that no one knew I'd died.

And Vivian, of course, wouldn't let me be forgotten for long. She'd make sure Nathan grew to despise me completely before she was satisfied.

But there was one thing I never expected: The first person to find my body was the very boy I'd protected and nurtured with everything I had back in the Gambling King's household.

That boy was now the head of Loween City's most powerful dynasty. His name was Sebastian Young.

He stood tall by the pool, cradling my long-cold body in his arms, his expression dark and unreadable.

My heart faltered for a moment. I remembered the day he took over the Gambling King's empire—how he'd looked me in the eye and sworn, "I will never let you down, for as long as I live."

Back then, I'd faked my death partly to escape that very feeling—a feeling I could never return.

People always develop feelings when they've been through the fire together. But I had only one goal: to leave. I could give him nothing.

I turned away, ready to drift elsewhere—when suddenly, a roar of fury erupted from the main courtyard. It was Nathan's voice. It drew me back like a magnet.

There he was, clutching a pale, trembling Vivian in his arms, barking orders at the servants, "Go get Master Channing!"

I knew that name. The most feared exorcist in the circles we moved in—ruthless, brutal, a man whose very reputation made people shudder.

Before I could piece it together, I heard Nathan grind out through clenched teeth, "That venomous woman Elena dared to put a curse on Vivian!"

So that was it.

I didn't flinch. I just watched Nathan panic, watched Nathan Jr. run around in circles like a frantic little bird.

"Don't be scared, Mama Viv. Dad will protect you. Once you're better, I'll have her locked up in some remote villa forever so she can never hurt you again."

The teenager's eyes were red as he made that vow.

Vivian weakly touched his cheek, shook her head gently, and spoke in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. "Don't be cruel to Elena. She's still your birth mother.

"Really, this is all my fault. I can endure the curse. I just don't want to see my sister stripped naked, hung up, and burned..."

She didn't even finish the sentence before she coughed up a mouthful of blood and went limp.

Nathan's eyes blazed red. He pressed his hand over her lips, his voice savage with pain. "Stop defending her! If anyone owes anyone, she owes you! If I hadn't met her first, the woman I married with honor and ceremony would have been you."

They clung to each other—tragic, devoted, desperately in love.

I hovered above them and let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

Nathan had always despised schemes and underhanded tricks. If he ever found out about all the filth Vivian had done behind the scenes, his face would be a picture.

But more than that, I was glad because he was finally coming for me.

I watched him kick open the door to my shabby little room, watched him rage when he couldn't find me there.

My smile grew wider and wider.

And then—just as he was fuming in frustration—the butler, whom he'd sent to search the entire estate, came running back in a panic. "Mr. Hartwell, Madam Elena is by the pool, but..."

The man was trembling so hard he could barely speak. Nathan didn't wait for him to finish. He stormed toward the pool.

Before he even got close, he was already bellowing, "Elena, if you dared to curse Vivian, don't blame me for handing you over to Master Channing and making you wish you were better off dead!"

Nathan Jr. was right behind him, his eyes dripping with disgust. "We never should have allowed you to come back!"

They were coming for me with nothing but vengeance on their minds—ready to drag me to the exorcist to break Vivian's curse.

But as they got closer, Sebastian slowly turned around.

"Mr. Hartwell," he said, his voice flat and cold, "why don't you tell me—how could a woman who's been dead for seven days have cursed your wife today?"