Five years after my death, my lover, Killian Thorne, returned to the lakeside cottage where I had lived.
He wasn't there to see me. His new lover, Penny Monroe, had suffered another relapse of her supposed aplastic anemia, and he desperately needed my rare Rh-negative blood to keep her alive.
When he stepped into the dilapidated house, he found it empty.
"Melanie, get the hell out here now! My patience is wearing thin, and you know it!"
His roar sent the old woman next door, Maria Petrova, hurrying over.
"Are you looking for Melanie? She died a long time ago."
Killian didn't believe it. Of course, he knew nothing of the pain and torment I had endured before my death.
He just sneered.
"Her brat is still in my hands. How dare she die! Tell her if she ever wants to see that little bastard again, she’d better show her face by tomorrow!"
But Maria sighed and shook her head.
"If you mean Melanie's child, that poor boy died a long time ago, too. He was trying to find his way back to his mother..."
————————
————————
1
For five years, my son Royal's soul and mine have been trapped in this dilapidated cottage, unable to move on. I never knew why.
In those same five years, Killian Thorne clawed his way up from an exiled heir to the Don of the Thorne family.
At his side, her arm linked through his, stood Penny Monroe, a celebrated beauty of New York's high society.
A cold wind swept through, kicking up clouds of fine gray dust. Penny covered her nose, not bothering to hide her disgust. "Killian, do you think Melanie is refusing to give me her blood? I feel like I'm going to die."
Five years ago, Penny was diagnosed with a rare blood disorder. As fate would have it, my rare Rh-negative blood was a perfect match for her.
Before my death, I was dragged onto the operating table time and again. Without anesthesia, they brutally drew my blood, over and over, just to keep her alive.
Killian glanced down at Penny, the coldness on his face melting into a gentle smile.
"Don't worry, Penny," he said. "Wherever she and that brat are hiding, I will find them."
Our son, Royal Thorne, who was floating beside me, shrank back in fear at his words. "Mamma, is that man my Papa? Really?"
Royal was only three when he died. I didn't know how to explain it to him, so I pulled his small spirit into my arms and ruffled his hair. "It's okay, Royal. He can't get to us."
Killian kicked the door open. The tremendous crash echoed through the house. It startled the old Eastern European woman next door, Maria Petrova. She shuffled over on trembling legs and asked cautiously, "Who are you looking for?"
"The woman who lives here," he answered, his voice sharp.
Maria narrowed her cloudy eyes. "You mean Melanie? She's been dead for a long time."
The color drained from Killian's face, and he froze.
Penny, however, stifled a delicate laugh. "Ma'am, you shouldn't joke like that. Melanie was the picture of health. How could she possibly be dead? I think she's just upset and hiding somewhere."
Hate flared in Killian's eyes. "That's right. Melanie always loved to play the victim to get sympathy. I'm sick of her tricks. Tell her—if she ever wants to see that bastard of hers again, she'd better show her face by tomorrow."
Maria slowly looked him up and down, a sharp sneer twisting her withered lips.
"Sir, this 'bastard' you're talking about... you mean Melanie's child, don't you?" she asked. "That poor little thing died a long time ago, too. I buried him with my own hands."
Killian paused, then a wicked smile crept onto his lips. "Old woman, you're in on this with her, aren't you? You think saying that will get her off the hook? Make me forgive her?"
Without warning, his demeanor shifted. The air grew heavy with the unspoken authority of a Don, a suffocating pressure meant to crush the truth out of Maria.
Penny rushed to grab his arm. "Killian, calm down!" she cried. "Killian, you just became the Don. You can't start killing innocent people, not for me!"
She looked as kind as ever. No one knew what a venomous heart lay hidden beneath that beautiful facade.
Before every blood draw, she would give the nurses a secret signal, an order to ignore my pain. She made sure I was awake for the full, agonizing experience as they drained far more blood than they ever needed.
That endless, unbearable torment was what caused my body to slowly wither away.
Killian reined in his menace, but the cruelty in his eyes didn't fade. "Penny, I won't let you die. I will find them, no matter what."
With that, he wrapped an arm around her waist and turned to leave.
I watched their retreating figures, a dull ache still throbbing in my chest.
Killian and I met ten years ago. Back then, he had been betrayed in a family power struggle and cast out. He was severely injured and had collapsed near my neighborhood.
I took him in, tended to his wounds, and supported him as he rose from the ashes.
Over time, we fell in love. Killian had an incredible talent for business. After a few years of struggle, our enterprise flourished, growing in both scale and influence.
Later, we crossed paths with a powerful figure named Julian Sterling. He was a financial magnate on Wall Street who controlled several key capital channels, a high-ranking man who carried himself with a refined air.
We didn't know at the time that his gentlemanly exterior was a mask that would deceive us both.
That day, Killian was held up by an urgent matter. I had no choice but to meet Julian alone. When Killian burst into the private room of that luxurious restaurant, he saw Julian pressing me against the wall, kissing me.
Killian was furious. His fist slammed into Julian's face.
He pulled me behind him and snarled, "I don't care who you are. Melanie is my woman. If you dare touch her again, you'll lose more than just a few teeth!"
On the way home, my tears wouldn't stop.
Killian held me tightly, rocking me gently and whispering, "I'm here, Melanie. It's over. Forget what happened. I promise, I'll give you a life where you never have to worry again. I want you to live with dignity, without bowing your head to anyone."
As time passed, the memory began to feel like a dream.
I floated in front of Killian, studying his face. It was even colder and more handsome than I remembered.
He had done it. Everything he had ever promised, he achieved.
The only difference was that the woman in his arms was no longer that foolish girl named Melanie Caruso.
On the morning of our third wedding anniversary, he had whispered in my ear before leaving, his voice hinting at a secret as he told me he had a surprise waiting.
I smiled and told him I would wait. In truth, I already knew about the velvet box hidden in the closet.
Back when he promised me a future, we had nothing. He had vowed to make it up to me one day, but I never thought he would remember after all these years.
That evening, I prepared his favorite dishes. I slipped into an elegant dress and put on a little makeup. The doorbell rang, and I ran to open it, only to find Julian standing outside.
He slammed me against the wall, pinning me with one hand. In the other, he held up a phone on a video call. On the screen, Killian was locked in a dark, blood-soaked basement.
A masked man walked over and kicked him hard in the stomach. Killian let out a muffled grunt and curled into a ball of pain.
Tears instantly flooded my eyes as I stared at Julian in a panic. Julian, however, just laughed in my face.
"Don't waste your breath," he said. "The signal is jammed here. He won't hear a thing."
He was right. Utterly helpless, I broke down, reduced to pleading with him.
He sneered. "Thanks to your man, I lost a huge deal. Do you think I should sever the tendons in his hands so he can never hold a gun again?"
On the other end of the video call, the masked man acted on Julian's unspoken order. He pulled out a sharp knife and started walking toward Killian.
I screamed in terror, "No, no, no! Don't do it! You can't! I'll call the police, Julian!"
"The police?" Julian laughed. "Do you have any idea who I am? You think the police can touch me?"
Of course, I knew. With his power and connections, fighting him was futile.
