The fire had broken out without warning. Remembering her husband, Ryland Morgan, was still in the master bedroom, she had rushed upstairs to save him-only for him to lock her inside.
"Ryland, what if she dies in there?"
A soft female voice drifted through the heavy wood.
Coralie's eyes went wide with shock.
It was Cara Foster, Ryland's first love.
But... hadn't Cara gone abroad for further study the very day she and Ryland got married?
"Isn't it better if she does?" Ryland's cold voice cut through the crackle of the flames. "If she doesn't, how am I supposed to get my hands on her inheritance?"
The blood in Coralie's veins ran ice-cold.
She clawed at the gap in the door until her nails split and dark blood seeped from her fingertips. Numb to the pain, she hammered frantically against the heavy wood.
"Ryland, what did you say? Open the door!"
Cara laughed, the sound sickeningly sweet.
"It sounds heartbreaking, but Ryland is right. This is your fate. That's what you get for insisting on tearing us apart back then."
The raging fire devoured the oxygen in the room, yet Coralie felt nothing but a bone-chilling cold spreading through her.
"No, this isn't real!" Tears blurred her vision as a suffocating wave of despair pulled her under.
Ryland let out a cruel sneer. "You didn't actually think I agreed to marry you because I had feelings for you, did you? It was all because of your father's condition. A spouse could only become a beneficiary of the inheritance after three years of marriage. That's the only reason I swallowed my disgust and played the doting husband for three long years!"
Coralie's heart shattered.
So that was why Ryland had chosen their third anniversary to burn her alive.
As if that weren't enough, the man outside twisted the knife, his voice dripping with the arrogant gloat of a victor.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Your father's car accident... I was right there at the scene."
A violent tremor wracked Coralie's body.
"He wasn't dead when he was thrown from the wreckage. Covered in blood, he begged me to save him." Ryland paused, letting out a dark chuckle. "What a pity. I just stood there and watched him take his last breath, second by agonizing second."
A loud ringing filled Coralie's ears. Eyes bloodshot, she slammed her fists against the door, her voice tearing from her throat.
"Ryland, I'm going to kill you! I'll kill you!"
But the footsteps outside were already fading away, leaving her screams to be swallowed by the roaring flames.
Thick, black smoke had already consumed half the room.
Her strength giving out, Coralie collapsed to the burning floor.
She lay on her back, the sickening stench of burning flesh filling the air.
Yet, she laughed-a hollow, tragic sound of absolute despair.
She had been so blind. She had handed her father's life's work to a monster for nothing, and ultimately brought about her own gruesome end.
What a pathetic, failed life she had lived.
Right at that moment, a tremendous force smashed the door open with a deafening crash. Coralie struggled to lift her heavy eyelids, but her vision was entirely blurred by the smoke.
"Coralie!"
It was a heart-wrenching, desperate roar.
She couldn't make out the contours of his face, but she recognized that voice.
It was Connor Mitchell, Ryland's arch-rival, the heir to the Mitchell Group, and a ruthless force in the business world who struck fear into the hearts of everyone.
But... he had been in a car accident when he was young. Both of his legs were paralyzed...
Why was he here?
Coralie parted her lips, but no sound came out.
How strange.
She had spent her entire life chasing after Ryland, yet in the end, the only person who came to collect her corpse was his worst enemy.
If only she could do it all over again.
If she were given just one more chance, she would never, ever choose Ryland again.
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