Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I died in the year my husband hated me the most.

I couldn't take his endless cold shoulder and the icy silence of our home anymore. I took a handful of pills and ended it all.

At the crematorium, he watched the roaring flames behind the glass window. A rare, twisted smile touched his lips.

"A woman as filthy as her doesn't deserve to remain whole, even in death," he muttered.

When the worker handed him the wooden urn containing my remains, he didn't take it. Instead, he swiped his hand in a violent motion.

The box hit the floor, and my ashes scattered across the dirty tiles like gray snow.

For years, he was convinced I was the one who drove his first love to her death.

He had spent every waking moment plotting, climbing the corporate ladder, and stripping me of everything just for this moment of revenge.

Once it was over, he stepped right over my ashes and walked away without looking back.

But not long after, he was back on his knees, sobbing and begging the funeral director to give me back to him.

...

When the news of my death reached him, Silas Sterling was signing a ten-million-dollar merger.

His assistant burst in, face pale and voice trembling.

"Mr. Sterling... your wife... she's gone."

The pen in Silas's hand jerked, leaving a dark, jagged ink blot on the expensive paper.

He slowly looked up, his voice dangerously calm. "...She's dead?"

"Yes. The police are ruling it a suicide."

The air in the boardroom turned suffocatingly still.

Silas stayed silent for a few beats. Then, he leaned back into his leather chair, letting out a long, heavy sigh.

I hovered beside him as a ghost, stunned to see his eyes turning a faint, watery red.

The sunset light hit his face, making him look exactly like the man I had fallen in love with years ago.

But... why the tears, Silas? Are you crying because you're happy?

After all, he had waited so long for this. He had finally avenged Bianca Rivers.

Bianca was his high school sweetheart, his 'white moonlight.'

In college, they were the golden couple everyone envied.

And I was just the shy, invisible girl pining for him from the shadows.

I thought my feelings would stay buried forever, but then Bianca was diagnosed with a terminal illness.

She didn't want to be a burden to him, so she came to me in secret.

She told me she could see the selfless love in my eyes.

She begged me to look after Silas after she was gone, to help him through the darkest time of his life.

Then, she vanished to a place where no one could find her, choosing to face the end alone.

She didn't even say goodbye to him.

I promised her I would keep her secret. I kept that promise for years.

But Silas believed I was the one who chased her away, making sure they never got a final goodbye.

He thought I had whispered lies to her that drove her to despair.

So, he faked a romance with me. He acted as if my devotion had finally won him over.

He played the long game, whispering "I love you" while slowly gutting my influence in the company.

He isolated me from my family, making me believe he was all I had left.

Once he had squeezed every bit of use out of me, he dropped the act.

He told me he had never loved me for a single second.

God, it hurt.

Just the memory of his cold, hateful eyes makes my spirit ache.

I found myself tethered to him as he got into his car.

Based on the route, he was heading to the funeral home.

I didn't think he'd actually want to see me one last time.

By the time we arrived, my body was already in the furnace.

Behind the iron doors, the body that used to be full of life was turning to dust.

I looked at Silas as he stood by the observation window.

He stared at the flames, his expression unreadable and dark.

An employee approached him cautiously.

"Mr. Sterling, would you like a final moment with her?"

"No need," he said coldly. "Just make sure she's burned to nothing."

I let out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh. I tried to reach out and touch his cheek, but my hand passed right through him.

Death makes even a simple touch a luxury.

I lost track of how long the fire burned.

When the doors finally opened, a woman who had weighed over a hundred pounds was reduced to a few handfuls of gray dust in a square box.

The worker held out the box with both hands, bowing slightly.

"Mr. Sterling, I am so sorry for your loss."

He didn't reach for it. He just stared at the photo taped to the lid for a few seconds.

It was a photo of me laughing.

I hadn't taken a single photo since I found out his true intentions.

Even this one was just a crop from an old picture of the two of us.

Silas's expression remained flat. He brushed his thumb over the image of my face and suddenly laughed.

"Loss? Why should I feel loss for a murderer?"

"I just think a person this filthy... doesn't deserve a proper burial."

With a swift, hateful motion, he struck the box out of the worker's hands.

A loud clang echoed as my ashes spilled across the floor, looking like a mess of dirt.

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Sterling! That was my mistake!"

The worker scrambled to clean it up, but Silas raised a hand to stop him.

"Don't bother. Just sweep it up and flush it down the drain."

He turned and walked away, his back straight and cold.

I watched him leave, the pain in my chest sharper than any knife.

When we first got together, he used to panic if I so much as nipped my finger. Now, he could say something so cruel without blinking.

I guess when you hate someone, you really can become a monster.