3

Our marital home was a villa nestled halfway up a mountainside.

When we first got married, I thought he chose this place with its clear mountains and beautiful waters for my health because he knew I was unwell.

It wasn't until I gradually lost touch with the outside world that I realized this was also part of his plan.

After all, I was the most favored youngest daughter of the Madison family, and only by isolating me from the world could Harris's plan be more successful.

His revenge would be all the more meaningful.

I followed Harris inside the villa, entering through the door with him.

There were no servants in the villa, and I did all the housework myself.

He seemed stunned as he changed his shoes, then let out a sneer and quickly put them on.

"Helena, you really died a good death."

I curled my lips in disdain and angrily followed him, stepping on his shadow.

"Harris, you jerk!"

Even in death, he still hated me so much!

Harris opened the refrigerator and poured himself a drink.

As he put the bottle down, he noticed the sticky note on the front of the fridge.

[Honey, I made your favorite milk puffs today. Remember to eat them!]

The date was December 28th, the night before I died.

Harris's eyes darkened, and he crumpled the note, throwing it into the trash.

He didn't even glance at my puffs.

To please him, I had even made the puffs in the shape of hearts.

He used to love them the most, but now he didn't even care.

It seemed that loving the food I made was just another one of his ways to deceive me.

4

For some unknown reason, Harris had been sullen ever since he saw the sticky note.

He lay on the couch for a long, long time, staring at the butterfly chandelier above his head.

If he could see supernatural things, he should also be able to see me sitting on the butterfly's wings, watching him.

This was something we bought together before we got married, and I loved it.

Miraculously, he also fell in love with this butterfly chandelier.

At that time, I was overjoyed that I had finally reached a consensus with him, not knowing that his sweetheart was named Monarch, the name of a butterfly.

I had asked him about his first love when I was jealous after we got married.

He lay on the couch and his arm pillowing me.

He stared blankly at the ceiling and said, "My first love flew away as a butterfly."

My heart tightened, and my desire to sacrifice myself grew even more vital.

I kissed his eyes and counseled him over and over again.

"Can I be your butterfly?

"My parents all say I'm the most cheerful person in our family, I can definitely make you happy!"

He didn't say anything. He just hugged me and trembled.

He listened to my heartbeat against my chest.

His hands gripped me so tightly that even though it hurt, but I didn't ask him to let go.

Because I interpreted his suppressed resentment as being moved by me.

Falling in love had the power to cloud one's judgment.

I deserve to be treated like this by him later.

After watching for about an hour, Harris finally decided what to do next.

I didn't intend to follow him, but it seemed like I could only follow within three feet of him.

I'm at the bathroom door now, listening to the sound of running water inside.

A minute later, the sound of bottles and cans falling to the ground made me feel creepy.

I flew open the door and saw Harris with bloodshot eyes.

He looked at the crimson in the entire bathroom, and his face finally showed a distorted expression.

5

My death was sudden and unexpected.

There was no one else in the villa. If it hadn't been for Oscar returning to fetch some documents, my death wouldn't have been discovered so quickly.

From the time of my death to the time I was reduced to ashes, only a dozen or so hours had passed.

Everyone had overlooked the fact that the place where I died had not been cleaned up.

So, the bathroom that Harris saw now was a classic murder scene.

"Helena!"

He roared into the air, startling me so much that my soul almost left my body again.

"What are you yelling for?" I muttered to myself.

After my body softened, I sank into the bathtub.

It wasn't that dirty outside. Couldn't he just clean it up himself?

But Harris obviously couldn't hear my muttering, and he had no intention of cleaning up either.

He trembled with anger and immediately pulled out his phone to call Oscar, not even noticing when the bathroom door had opened.

"Find me another house right away, I'm moving out tomorrow!"

After he finished speaking, he slammed the phone down, shattering it into pieces.

I had never seen Harris so manic.

Close call!

I patted my nonexistent heartbeat, trying to calm myself down.

It wasn't until Harris left that I squatted down masochistically and stirred the blood in the bathtub.

This was the second time I had seen such a scene.

The first time was when I accidentally learned that Harris only married me for revenge.

At that time, I was in a daze and accidentally fell into the bathtub.

Blood flowed everywhere, and I just learned that the life I had just discovered was strangled.

The second time was when I committed suicide.

I fell into a coma early and let the blood flow freely.

I never thought I'd witness such a tragic scene with my own eyes.

"Harris..."

I looked at his back.

"If you find out one day that her death is not because of me, will you regret it?"