Chapter 4

I vomited mouthful after mouthful of black blood, while the nurse on duty stood there with red-rimmed eyes. "Mr. Wright, are you really sure you don't want us to notify your family?"

I shook my head with great effort. With a trembling hand, I pressed my thumbprint onto the Cremation Authorization Form.

"Cremate me…" Blazing flames roared to life, reducing all the humiliation, betrayal, and pain I had endured into ashes.

…

Gretchen had booked out the city's most upscale revolving restaurant to celebrate Dwight's birthday.

He wore a birthday hat and gazed at her affectionately before clasping his hands together. "My only wish... is to be with you for the rest of our lives, Greta. I don't ever want us to be apart."

Gretchen clutched her uneasy chest. Her brows drew together as she said solemnly, "Don't be ridiculous, Dwi. Dustin may have done something wrong, but he's been with me for a decade. My statement's only a temporary measure.

"I only agreed to the divorce to teach him a lesson. Once this whole ordeal blows over, I'll assign you to Third Hospital. I owe him far too much, so when he gets released from prison and comes home, I'll definitely make it up to him."

Hovering in midair, I listened to those words and found them utterly absurd. Over the past few years, she had chosen him over me on every important occasion. Now, she wanted to transfer him away and make it up to me?

Dwight lowered his gaze, suppressing the indignation and malice brewing across his face.

Just then, a waiter wheeled a small cart over to their table. "Ms. Payne, you have an express local delivery. The sender is... Mr. Wright."

Gretchen's eyes immediately lit up, and the corners of her lips curled into a faint smile. Dwight's expression, however, darkened in an instant. He beat her to it and roughly tore open the package. "I'd like to see what kind of surprise Dustin has prepared for you, Greta!"

The moment the cardboard box popped open, he went rigid. The blood drained from his face, and he yelped. "Does he hate me that much? I can't believe he sent me an urn on my birthday. He's even gone so far as to forge a death certificate to extort us!"

Her chest heaved violently as blinding rage shot straight to her head. "You must be out of your bloody mind, Dustin Wright!"

Gretchen grasped the stack of medical records and the death certificate, along with the urn, and hurled them into a trash can by the side of the street. The urn's lid shattered upon impact, spilling the ashes all over the ground.

Gretchen pulled out her phone and bellowed at her friend on the other end of the line. "I don't care what it takes—find me that bastard, Dustin Wright!"

Right after hanging up, a call came through from an unknown number. "Hello, am I speaking with Gretchen Payne? This is the funeral home in the South District. We'd like to confirm whether you've received Mr. Wright's ashes and the relevant documents."

"How much did he pay you to play along with his little act? Tell him the game is over! Tell him to get his ass back here right now!" she sneered.

The more she dwelled on it, the angrier she became. She stormed out of the restaurant, climbed into her Porsche, and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

The tires ruthlessly ground the ashes until they became inseparable from the muddy water on the street.

Just then, her phone rang again.

Her friend's voice trembled from sheer terror. "Gretchen... I checked the system... Dustin... he passed away the night before last from multiple organ failure. His body was just cremated this morning. The funeral home said his ashes were sent to you via local express delivery, strictly according to his last wishes..."