Chapter 1

For the final three minutes before my death, my soul drifted to my wife's side.

Cassandra Beaumont sat beside Miles Rowland's hospital bed, hands clasped tightly as she stared at him with fear written across her face.

"Miles, don't scare me. Please wake up."

My father, who had always treated Miles like his own son, stood beside her, furious.

"If that bastard Elliot had protected him properly, Miles wouldn't be lying here. Wait until I get my hands on him."

I stood a few feet away and felt something bitter twist through me.

Dad, you don't have to.

I'm already dead.

I died because none of you cared enough to look at me.

Doctors crowded around Miles's bed. After confirming that he'd suffered nothing worse than a bone bruise, one of the senior physicians finally gathered enough courage to mention me.

"Dr. Beaumont... are we really not treating Elliot? His injuries from the crash looked severe."

The concern vanished from Cassandra's face.

Disgust replaced it.

"What is he doing now? Pretending he's dying?

Her voice rose.

"Does he have any idea what he did to Miles?"

I stared at the woman I'd married.

My heart was already dead, yet somehow it still seemed to ache.

I was her husband.

Did I truly mean nothing to her?

Then Cassandra took out her phone and called me.

A nurse lifted my phone to my ear.

For one foolish second, some part of me still hoped I would hear concern.

Instead, Cassandra's voice came through exactly as it always did.

"Elliot, how long are you planning to hide before you come apologize to Miles?"

That was when the last bit of hope inside me went cold.

Of course.

She didn't care.

When I'd first been brought into the emergency department, I'd begged her to help me.

She had looked at me with irritation and said, "Can you stop fighting for attention for once? Miles almost broke a bone."

Then she turned around and took every doctor she could summon with her to his room.

Why would she have had any love left for me?

The nurse beside my bed finally couldn't take it anymore.

She took the phone.

"Dr. Beaumont, Elliot really is crashing."

Cassandra laughed coldly.

"How much did that piece of garbage pay you to help him put on this show? I didn't know he was capable of dragging hospital staff into his nonsense."

At that moment, Miles finally "woke up."

His voice came weak and gentle through the phone.

"Cass... Gerald... how's Elliot?"

Cassandra looked at him as if he were the kindest person in the world.

Then her expression hardened all over again.

"Elliot, why can't you be half as considerate as Miles? Look what you've done to him, and he's still asking about you.

Her voice turned sharp.

"You have three minutes to get over here and apologize. If you don't, don't bother coming home."

She hung up, breathing hard.

My father frowned beside her.

"Why call him at all? Hasn't he hurt Miles enough?"

Miles lowered his eyes, barely hiding the satisfaction on his face, then pulled a look of guilt over it.

"Cass, Gerald, please don't be angry with him. Elliot probably gets jealous because I'm too close to all of you. I can understand why he'd blame me."

I almost laughed.

Even after I was dead, Miles was still poisoning them against me.

But Cassandra and my father would never notice.

To them, Miles had always been the obedient one. The thoughtful one. Worth ten of me.

It would never occur to them that the crash had happened because their precious Miles had set it in motion.

Cassandra's face turned colder.

"I married Elliot. What more does he want from me? I must have been blind to ever fall for someone like him."

Miles immediately softened his voice.

"Don't be angry, Cass. There must be a reason he's acting this way."

Her eyes gentled.

"Miles, you're too kind. That's why Elliot has always taken advantage of you."

That was Miles's real talent.

He always knew exactly what to say to make my wife and my parents love him more.

Even if I could have stood in front of them and told them every cruel thing he'd done since childhood, I already knew what would happen.

They would call me a liar, jealous of Miles.

Maybe they would slap me before I finished the sentence.