Chapter 3

The engine roared through the night as the Aston Martin screeched to a brutal halt in front of the mansion.

For the first time in half a month, Sebastian set foot in this house.

With a deafening bang, the front door was kicked open. He strode into the living room, ripping off his tie as he bellowed, "Kaitlyn, get your ass out here!"

He stormed through the hallway, slamming open door after door.

The master bedroom, the walk-in closet, even the guest bathroom. But the entire mansion was dead silent—no trace of the cowering figure he'd imagined finding.

Sebastian's face darkened, his jaw clenched tight.

He immediately dialed his security team, ordering them to turn the city upside down to find me, while hurling threats at the empty rooms:

"Kaitlyn, if you want to play hide and seek, you better pray you can run far enough. When I catch you, I swear you won't be walking anywhere ever again."

But the woman whose legs he wanted to break was floating right in front of him in ethereal form, watching him lose his mind.

Just then, his phone lit up. His assistant had sent a location pin.

Sebastian stared at the screen, his gaze instantly turning razor-sharp.

I followed his line of sight and my heart lurched—it was Matthew Wilson's address.

"Mr. Reynolds," his assistant reported carefully over the phone, "Mrs. Reynolds' last call was to Mr. Matthew Wilson. But he claims he hasn't seen her in half a month. We suspect... he's hiding her."

Sebastian spat out two words: "Wait for me."

"Fuck." Sebastian killed the call and stormed out.

The Aston Martin tore through the streets, screeching to a stop outside Matthew's apartment building.

He went straight upstairs, kicking the locked door with vicious force, one blow after another.

As he prepared to deliver a third kick, the door opened.

Matthew stood in the doorway. His usually gentle face was lifeless now, his eyes bloodshot with spidery veins, dark circles carved deep beneath them.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Sebastian let out a cold laugh, advancing step by step. "You hide my wife, and you're asking me what I want?"

Matthew remained expressionless. "I'm not hiding her. Kaitlyn is dead." He stared into Sebastian's eyes, his tone frighteningly calm. "The crematorium already notified you to collect her ashes, didn't they?"

"So she got to you too? Got you playing along with this shit?" Sebastian sneered, his eyes dripping with contempt. "Ha, looks like Kaitlyn's dead set on dragging this game out with me this time."

Sebastian didn't believe I was dead. To him, this was just my latest trick to escape him. Even the ashes he'd personally crushed under his feet—he was convinced they were just some "substitute."

He looked past Matthew's shoulder, shouting into the apartment:

"Kaitlyn! Don't think having Matthew protect you means you can hide from this. I'm counting to three. If you don't get out here, don't blame me for what happens next!"

"Three. Two. One."

Before the last number faded, Sebastian suddenly raised his leg and kicked Matthew hard, sending him crashing to the floor.

He jerked his head toward his security team: "Get in there and search every inch!"

Matthew hit the floor hard. Watching the guards roughly storm into his home, his death-mask face finally cracked with fury.

He lunged up, grabbing Sebastian's collar in both fists and slamming him against the wall.

"Sebastian, I'm telling you one more goddamn time—Kaitlyn is DEAD! Those ashes you treated like garbage and crushed on that crematorium floor—that was HER!" Matthew roared, veins bulging in his neck. "She died half a month ago!"

Sebastian let him grip his collar, a cruel smirk playing at his lips. "Even now, you're still covering for her. Matthew, you really are head over heels for her, aren't you?"

"Too bad I've already had my way with her, inside and out. Maybe someday when I'm completely sick of her, if you still want my leftovers, I might consider tossing her your way."

"But not now—she still needs to get on her knees at my mother's grave. You'll have to wait your turn."

Matthew's face flushed from pale to crimson. Fury finally shattered his restraint as he roared through gritted teeth: "Sebastian, you goddamn son of a bitch!"

With that shout, he threw a heavy punch that connected solidly with Sebastian's cheekbone.

Sebastian grunted in pain, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

In an instant, two men who normally carried themselves with refined dignity were brawling like wild animals. Fists connected with flesh, both tearing at each other viciously.

People always said souls couldn't feel pain.

But hovering there in mid-air, I felt my chest constricting with agony, as if a hundred dull knives were sawing at my nerves, tearing this incorporeal form apart piece by piece.

Matthew worked out regularly, but Sebastian had trained for years in Krav Maga and mixed martial arts. Within just a few moves, the fight turned decisively one-sided.

Sebastian mercilessly threw Matthew to the ground, pinning him down, raining punches on him one after another.

Within moments, Matthew's face was bloodied, swelling with shocking bruises.

I spun frantically in mid-air, desperately trying to pull Sebastian away, but my hands passed through his body again and again. I couldn't do anything.

"Look at how pathetic you are." Sebastian straddled Matthew, mocking from above. "Ready to die for some cheap slut, and where is she? Hiding somewhere comfortable, watching you bleed out. Is she really worth dying for?"

Matthew lay on the floor gasping for breath. He didn't dodge or fight back.

Instead, he stared up at Sebastian with eyes full of profound pity. He suddenly let out a bitter laugh.

"Sebastian... the truly pathetic one... is you." Matthew coughed up blood, smiling grimly through the pain. "A blind fool who can't even figure out who really killed his own mother. You drove the only person who ever truly loved you to her death in that storm. Right now, you're lower than a stray dog on the street."

Sebastian's raised fist froze mid-air, his pupils contracting sharply.

"What the hell did you just say?" His voice was ice-cold, his knuckles bone-white as his fist trembled in the air, ready to strike down again at any second.

Just then, rushed footsteps echoed from the doorway.

Sebastian's assistant burst in holding a tablet, his face deathly pale, his voice shaking uncontrollably:

"Mr. Reynolds! We've got a situation! We didn't find Mrs. Reynolds... but we found the surveillance footage from the scene of her multi-vehicle accident half a month ago!"

The assistant gasped for breath, holding the screen with its official police seal toward the frozen Sebastian with both trembling hands:

"And... this just came through from the police department. It's the... the coroner's examination report. For Mrs. Reynolds."