Chapter 3
After two hours of mountain trails, Elizabeth finally made it.
Her once tender feet were already rubbed raw and bloody, leaving faint bloody footprints on the ground one after another.
But Elizabeth's eyes were bright, fixed intently on the black manor at the mountaintop.
That was Riverside Crown Estate, a place no one in Shadowpine dared approach, and Matthew's residence.
Finally, the ornate iron gate appeared before her eyes.
Elizabeth stumbled forward and pounded on the gate: "Matthew! I'm back! Open the door!"
Only the mountain wind and rows of silent security cameras answered her.
Elizabeth refused to give up, screaming desperately: "Matthew, I was wrong, I'm not marrying Daniel anymore."
Just as her voice was going hoarse from shouting, the door opened.
A man in a black suit wearing gold-rimmed glasses walked out, looking expressionlessly at the disheveled Elizabeth.
It was Matthew's special assistant, John.
John pushed up his glasses: "Ms. Winters, if you're here to deliver a wedding invitation, don't bother. Mr. Moore has no interest in your wedding."
"I'm here to see him." Elizabeth stepped forward urgently, trying to grab John's sleeve: "John, let me in, I have something very important to tell him."
John stepped back, avoiding her hand with disgust.
"Ms. Winters, please have some self-respect."
"You were the one who insisted Mr. Moore let you go, and now you're the one making a scene here. What exactly do you want?"
Elizabeth's heart stung sharply. She knew John was right—she had been that much of a jerk before.
"I want to see him, I really want to see him, please, just let me see him once."
Her eyes reddened, and her knees went weak as she was about to kneel before John.
She didn't care about dignity anymore, as long as she could see Matthew.
John frowned, seemingly surprised that the proud Elizabeth would become like this.
Just then, the phone in John's pocket rang with a distinctive ringtone that made both of them freeze.
John answered the call, his attitude immediately becoming respectful: "Mr. Moore."
Hearing this, Elizabeth rushed toward the phone desperately: "Matthew! It's me! I'm Elizabeth! Please let me in!"
John put it on speaker, and the voice from the other end came through clearly: "Tell her to get lost."
Elizabeth froze in place, tears falling in big drops, her heart aching terribly.
John hung up and looked at her: "Did you hear that? Mr. Moore told you to get lost."
"I'm not leaving!" Elizabeth gripped the iron gate bars tightly.
John impatiently waved his hand, and two bodyguards in black immediately stepped forward, grabbing Elizabeth's arms from both sides and dragging her toward the mountain path.
"Let go of me! I'm not leaving!" Elizabeth struggled desperately, her feet kicking wildly on the ground, smearing blood everywhere.
She looked at the gate, her mind flashing to the scene from her past life where Matthew held her as they died together.
If she couldn't be with him, what was the point of living this life over?
She absolutely couldn't leave! A flash of determination crossed Elizabeth's eyes. She lowered her head and bit down hard on the bodyguard's wrist.
The bodyguard cried out in pain and instinctively let go.
Elizabeth took the opportunity to break free, yanked the diamond brooch from her chest, and pressed the pin against her own neck: "Don't come any closer!"
The pin pierced her skin, blood beads rolling down her neck and dripping onto the dirty wedding dress.
John's pupils suddenly contracted as he shouted: "Elizabeth! If you want to die, go die somewhere else, don't dirty Mr. Moore's property!"
"I'm going to die right here!" Elizabeth cried out, pressing harder, the blood flowing faster and staining a large patch of skin red.
"John, you tell Matthew—if he doesn't see me, I'll die right at his doorstep!"
She was betting on even a one-in-ten-thousand chance that Matthew would soften. In her past life, she used death to force him to let go; in this life, she'd use death to make him turn back.
John looked at the increasingly deep bloody mark on her neck, unsure what to do.
Just then, the roar of an engine came from nearby.
She looked down to see a very conspicuous red sports car racing arrogantly up the winding mountain road below.
The car drifted to a stop right by the fountain.
Elizabeth stared intently at the driver's seat, her heart racing.
A long leg stepped out first, followed by the figure that haunted her dreams.
Matthew wore a black silk shirt with the collar open, revealing part of his solid chest muscles. He exuded an air of decadence and danger.
He leaned against the car door, turning slightly to extend his hand into the car.
A woman in a fire-red miniskirt with big wavy curls smiled and took Matthew's hand, falling into his arms.
Matthew didn't push her away; instead, he wrapped his arm around the woman's waist.
Elizabeth stared at him intently, watching as the woman brazenly threw herself into Matthew's arms in front of all the bodyguards.
"Matthew, carry me inside."
Elizabeth recognized the woman—it was Emily Johnson, recently famous in the entertainment industry for being sexy.
In her past life, after she left, various women did frequently appear around Matthew. Elizabeth had always thought he'd fallen in love with someone else and had felt relieved.
But now she knew—it was all fake, all deliberately done for her to see, to make her feel at ease.
"Your legs are weak?" Matthew's deep, magnetic voice rang out with a touch of flirtation, casually glancing at the disheveled Elizabeth.
Seeing her miserable state, a flash of heartache crossed Matthew's eyes before quickly disappearing.
Right in front of Elizabeth, he gave Emily's thigh a light pinch.
"Matthew, you're so bad!" Emily lightly tapped him, practically gluing herself to him.
Matthew scooped Emily up in his arms and strode toward the villa: "Since your legs are weak, go lie down on the bed."
Elizabeth heard it all clearly, her nails digging deep into her flesh, yet she felt no pain.
She watched the man who once would've died for her—now holding another woman, whispering dirty talk in her ear.
Her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe, but she didn't turn and run like in her past life.
He wanted to use this method to make her leave? No way!
She thought, 'If you want to put on a show, I'll play along to the end.'
