Chapter 4

Mark on the other end sobbed, unable to catch his breath. He didn't dare respond.

Time ticked by. Dent couldn't sit still anymore. "Why is there still no movement?" He loosened his tie, his eyes turning vicious. "Can't even pass along a simple message? Do I have to go invite her myself?"

He paced back and forth, muttering to himself. "A woman like Elena—how could she die so easily? I calculated everything. This intensity was right at her limit, but absolutely not lethal!"

Though Dent's words were harsh, he still turned to rush toward the cold storage. Just then, Sophia, who'd been curled up on the sofa, lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her whole body trembled. Tears came on command.

"Dent, don't go! Please don't leave me... Mrs. Elena has used drugs to temporarily stop her heartbeat for missions before. This is definitely another one of her tricks! If you go down there now, you'll lose."

Sophia tilted her head up, continuing her persuasion. "Dent, Mrs. Elena has such a temper—she's always making you angry. Didn't you make up your mind this time to fix her bad attitude? If you go now, she'll think she won. In the future, she'll only become more disobedient. Only if you make her completely afraid will she get rid of that arrogant attitude and obediently listen to you."

After Sophia finished speaking, Dent's footsteps halted. He hesitated.

I floated in mid-air, watching this scene, my heart twisting like a knife. Sophia, you're truly vicious.

While Dent hesitated, Mark's roar came through the walkie-talkie again. "Boss! Mrs. Elena already has livor mortis!"

"Let go!" Dent shoved Sophia aside and rushed toward the cold storage like a madman.

Sophia fell back onto the sofa. The gentle girl's face twisted with malice as she mouthed three words: "Go to hell."

So her claustrophobia was an act. Her fragility was an act. Only that fool Dent would let her play him like this.

Dent stumbled to the cold storage door and burst through it like a lunatic. "Elena! Stop pretending! Get up!" He charged in shouting, but his voice suddenly stopped when he saw the figure in the corner.

My stiff corpse was curled up by the door, dressed in thin clothing already soaked through with melted ice water and covered in a thin layer of frost. My hair was matted messily against my face. My skin had turned blue.

The inside of the door was covered with scratches of varying depths. My hands were frozen in a clawing position, all ten fingers a mangled mess of flesh and blood. My nails were torn back, broken off in the door cracks, dried black blood streaked across the backs of my hands.

Dent stood in the doorway. He tried to take a step forward, but his legs nearly gave out beneath him. "Elena!"