Three years after my death, I suddenly ‘woke up.’ No flesh, no memory, just a wisp of a soul. I was trapped, tethered to Jason’s side, forced to watch him and his wife in their blissful ignorance. Then, one day, his wife was cleaning out the attic and stumbled upon a photograph of me. “Who’s this?” she asked offhandedly, a casual chuckle on her lips. Jason’s voice was flat as he tossed the photo into the trash. “Just a dead person. Elara, I think? I can barely remember her name anymore.” Elara. So that was my name. A forgotten ex-wife. But that very night, I saw Jason secretly drugging his wife. Through the reflection in the glass, his eyes met mine. “Elara,” he whispered. “See? I’m avenging you.” For a moment, I almost believed Jason could actually see me. My soul quivered, the words right there. But Jason simply held the milk, turned, and walked away. Such a shame. He still couldn’t see me. Seraphina, suspecting nothing, drank the milk and fell into a deep sleep. The moment she did, Jason rushed to the trash and carefully retrieved my photo, clutching it to his chest. “I’m sorry, Elara. I’m so sorry.” “I made you dirty, did it hurt when you fell? It’s all my fault.” Jason’s voice was low and hoarse, filled with guilt. He repeatedly wiped the glass frame with the cuff of his expensive suit, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. He pressed his warm lips to the glass, gently coaxing. “Just a little longer. Soon, five days at most.” “I’ll make Seraphina lose everything. Her wealth, her reputation, everything she stole from you. Then I’ll send her down to apologize.” “And then, Elara, we… we can be together again.” Jason picked up his phone and dialed a number. His voice instantly turned cold. “You can proceed. Make sure it’s clean.” After that, Jason held my photo, practically frozen in his study. Sometimes he would weep uncontrollably, large tears splashing against the glass. Other times, a gentle, yet chilling, smile would twist his lips. And then, he’d press his forehead to the frame, letting out strangled, guttural sobs. For three whole hours, Jason acted like a madman, crying and laughing. He was more terrifying than I, a mere ghost. A belated realization dawned on me. This man, Jason, he seemed to… truly love me. Until his phone screen lit up again, a distinctive vibration breaking the silence of the study. Jason snatched up his phone. The message was concise. “Mr. Jason, it’s done. Mr. Thorne fell to his death after drinking too much.” He didn’t reply, simply putting my photo frame away carefully. He rose and walked towards the master bedroom, pushing the door open forcefully. Seraphina on the bed seemed disturbed by the rough sound, stirring uneasily. But the sleeping pills worked their magic, and she didn’t wake. Jason walked to the bedside, gazing at her for a few seconds. His eyes were as cold as if he were looking at an inanimate object. Suddenly, Jason did something utterly insane. He lunged out, not to wake Seraphina, but to grab her hair viciously and smash her forehead hard against the solid wooden headboard! A dull, sickening thud echoed in the room. Seraphina jolted awake from the extreme pain and terror, letting out a piercing scream. The moment her eyes flew open, I watched the coldness vanish from Jason’s face, replaced by feigned concern. He pulled her into his arms, his voice soft. “Seraphina, what’s wrong?” “How did you manage to hit your head just sleeping? Was it a nightmare?” “Shhh, it’s alright now. I’m here.” Before she could even begin to collect herself, her phone on the nightstand erupted with a shrill ring. “Hello?” The next second, Seraphina’s pupils constricted, her face turning ashen. “No! Dad! That’s impossible!” She desperately grabbed Jason’s arm, sobbing incoherently. “Jason! My dad… my dad had an accident. They said he fell from a building, and he’s gone.” “What do I do, Jason! What am I going to do!” Jason reacted quickly. He immediately pulled Seraphina tightly into his embrace, his voice carrying just the right amount of shock and grief. “What! How could this happen?” “It’s okay, I’m here for everything. If the sky falls, I’ll hold it up for you. Calm down, tell me slowly.” Seraphina clung to Jason even more. Her face buried in his chest, she wept, murmuring words. But where Seraphina couldn’t see, I clearly saw Jason’s expression. There was no grief on his face; instead, he smirked at me with a twisted, eerie smile. Yet, the words he spoke were so gentle and reassuring. “Seraphina, your family’s problems are my problems!” “I’ll handle everything!”
“Jason, thank god you’re here.” Mrs. Thorne wiped her tears, clutching his hand. “With her father gone… who knows what those vultures outside might do to our family without you here.” Jason’s face was a mask of sorrowful resolve. He squeezed her hand in return. “As long as I’m here, no one will ever dare touch the Thorne family.” Then, he drew a sealed envelope from his pocket. The words “To My Dearest Wife” were written on the front. “I… came across this in Mr. Thorne’s study,” he said, his voice gentle as he handed it to her. “It must be for you.” He paused and handed it to Mrs. Thorne. “Perhaps you should read it when you feel a little stronger?” With that, Jason left. Mrs. Thorne’s trembling hands tore open the envelope. That letter was a fake. I had watched Jason forge it. He seemed to have practiced Mr. Thorne’s handwriting for a long time, his fingertips calloused. As he wrote each word, a pang of sorrow and melancholy welled up in me. I vaguely sensed that the Jason I remembered shouldn’t be like this. He should have been the bright, flamboyant young man, pure as a fresh breeze and clear moonlight. Not this… this twisted, dark, ruthless man, almost a demon driven to madness, all for me – someone who didn’t remember him at all, someone who had been dead for three years. Jason, you should have lived your life well. When Mrs. Thorne returned after reading the letter, her expression was already dazed. Jason feigned tenderness, stepping forward to support her, and whispered words that pierced her heart. “Mrs. Thorne, what Mr. Thorne said in the letter is true, isn’t it?” “It was you, thinking you were so clever, working with Seraphina to murder Elara. It was you who raised Seraphina to be just like you, a useless person who only knows how to kill to solve problems. The Thorne family has been caught red-handed; there’s no way to recover. “The Thorne family was destroyed by your hands. He’ll never forgive you, even in death.” Mrs. Thorne’s body began to tremble violently, her gaze fixed on her husband’s portrait. “I didn’t! I never mean to kill Elara.” She mumbled. “She was just an orphan. Who cared if she died? It’s been three years. No one will-” “Won’t they?” Jason cut her off, his voice dropping to a venomous hiss. “After Elara fell to her death three years ago,your people chopped her body into twenty-eight pieces. Each piece cemented into the building.” He continued, the words cold and precise. “I hear they’ve started renovations on it recently. They might have already dug her up.” “If someone discovers it, the Thorne family will be completely finished. Tell me, will you also be chopped into twenty-” Jason didn’t finish his sentence. Mrs. Thorne suddenly let out a shrill, ear-splitting shriek, pushing Jason away violently. She had completely lost her mind. She lunged towards Mr. Thorne’s altar, screaming, laughing, falling into complete delirium, repeatedly yelling. “I didn’t mean it! Old Thorne, I did it all for Seraphina.” “That slut was hogging Jason, so I killed her. Only then could my daughter take her place! I wanted to throw her down! To chop her up!” Mrs. Thorne then grabbed Seraphina’s hand, trembling and pleading through tears. “Don’t come for me, I already cemented you in the concrete.” “Elara, you’re dead. Why don’t you reincarnate? Why are you tormenting me! Don’t extort the Thornes anymore, we’re out of money!” Seraphina had been lost in grief over her father’s death, but hearing her mother’s words, she was utterly terrified. She grabbed her mother, blurting out. “Mom! What are you talking about? Are you crazy?”
But it was too late. The altar, which had been deathly silent, erupted into a greater uproar. Everyone’s eyes darted frantically between the delirious Mrs. Thorne and the ashen-faced Seraphina. Some people even started recording videos. Just then, Jason steadied the swaying Seraphina. His voice was grave and urgent. “Seraphina, listen. Your mother is having a mental breakdown right now; she’s speaking nonsense.” “So many people have heard it, and some are secretly recording. If someone makes trouble and calls the police, they’ll definitely investigate. Then not only will your mother be finished, but you’ll also be questioned repeatedly. The Thorne family will be completely ruined!” Seraphina was stunned by Jason’s words, clutching his clothes, trembling. “Then… then what do I do? Jason, I’m so scared.” A cold glint flickered in Jason’s eyes, but his tone grew even calmer. “There’s only one way. forcefully send your mother to a mental hospital.” “You must maintain a consistent story externally, saying that your mother suffered too great a blow from your father’s sudden death. That she’s experiencing severe schizophrenia and delusions. This is the only way to protect her, and to protect you. Understand?” A dazed Seraphina had long lost her judgment, relying completely on Jason. Tears streaming, she nodded frantically. “Okay!” Under Jason’s ‘guidance,’ Seraphina shakily signed the admission papers. Several burly ‘staff members’ in uniform stepped forward, unceremoniously grabbing the still delirious, screaming, and struggling Mrs. Thorne, one on each side. “Let me go!” “Seraphina, I’m not sick! I’m your mother! Say something, they’re trying to hurt me!” “I don’t want to go! Seraphina, don’t let them take me!” Mrs. Thorne shrieked as she was forcibly dragged from the altar, her black high heels kicking off and clattering to the ground. I floated out after them. I saw that the vehicle waiting wasn’t an ambulance at all, but an unmarked black van. She was shoved roughly into the back seat. Her struggles lasted only a moment. A cold-faced man in the passenger seat raised his hand and slapped her, again and again. Smack! Smack! Smack! “Be quiet! You murderer!” Mrs. Thorne was knocked sideways into the seat, left with only terrified whimpers. The man emotionlessly pulled out his phone and reported. “Mr. Jason, the person has been picked up. Following your instructions, we’ll ‘take good care’ of her!” By the time I floated back to the altar, the guests had left. A funeral that should have been solemn and dignified had turned into a deeply embarrassing farce. Seraphina, shocked and enraged, simply fainted. But this time, Jason didn’t help her. He watched her coldly. Then, with the tip of his shoe, he disdainfully and scornfully prodded Seraphina’s limp body. His contempt was undisguised. “Wake her up.” A bucket of ice water was splashed on Seraphina. Seraphina jolted awake in the biting cold. “Jason, what… what are you doing? Why…” Jason curved a cold smile, leaning down to look at her. “Why what?” “I just don’t want to pretend with you anymore.” Seraphina’s voice instinctively trembled. “Pretend? Is it because the Thorne family has fallen, and you think I’m useless now?” “Jason, you weren’t like this before, you used to constantly say you loved…” Jason angrily cut Seraphina off. “Enough! What right do you have to speak of ‘love’! In that villa, there was never a single photo of Elara. Everything that belonged to her, I took care of three years ago, cleanly, not a trace left.” “When you deliberately let me see it, I knew. You were testing me.” Jason took a step forward, the invisible pressure almost suffocating Seraphina. “You asked me who she was, didn’t you?” “Now, I’ll give you the answer.” Jason’s gaze drifted upward, all pretense gone, his cruel nature laid bare. “Her name was Elara. She was the only wife I’ve ever had.” “Three years ago, at the abandoned factory west of the city, you pushed her. Your mother had the body dismembered into twenty-eight pieces to cover it up. Your father arranged for them to be cemented into the factory’s foundation during the renovation.” I floated in the air. I watched, cold and detached, as Seraphina trembled in absolute terror, too afraid to even sob. Jason gripped Seraphina’s neck, his eyes burning with monstrous hatred. “I married you,” he snarled, “to get close to my wife’s murderer. Closer and closer…” “…until I could kill you. Slowly.”
The body beneath his hand went limp. Seraphina, overwhelmed by terror, fainted again. “Mr. Jason, should we wake her up again?” A bodyguard whispered, seeking instructions. “No need. Lock her in the basement. The game… is more fun when played slowly.” Jason’s voice was devoid of emotion. He turned and walked directly towards the study. The moment the wooden door closed, his shoulders sagged slightly. Looking at his back, I instinctively felt a bone-deep weariness and vulnerability. Jason walked to the bookshelf, pressing certain book spines. With the sound of mechanical movement, a hidden compartment popped open. I expected top-tier jewelry, confidential documents, or something similar. But no, there was only a neatly folded, old dress, a faded hair tie, a few polaroid photos with worn edges, and… my meticulously clean photo frame. A sense of familiarity and fragmented memories surged. I knew those were my things. “Elara…” Jason murmured, his voice terribly hoarse. “Did you see? I made her afraid, she’s finally afraid.” He chuckled, but as he laughed, tears unexpectedly streamed down, turning into suppressed, painful sobs. “Elara… twenty-eight cuts. Were you scared then?” Jason questioned, clutching the photo frame. Standing behind Jason, my soul trembled. I frantically shook my head, hoping he wouldn’t continue to torment himself like this. But I was just a wisp of a soul, only able to helplessly float around him. Jason’s tone grew increasingly obsessive and deranged. “I was your husband, and I failed to protect you. I couldn’t get there… I’m guilty.” “Elara, I should also suffer twenty-eight cuts!” As soon as he spoke, Jason abruptly pulled a sharp utility knife from the study drawer. I gasped in alarm, immediately wanting to grab his hand to stop him, but I could only watch my soul fruitlessly pass through Jason’s arm. Jason didn’t hesitate, raising his hand and savagely slashing his left arm. Blood instantly gushed out! “Does it hurt? Elara.” He stared at the photo, his eyes unfocused. It was as if he was looking through it at me, who had suffered all those years ago. I was frantic with tears, silently comforting him. It doesn’t hurt anymore. Jason, it stopped hurting a long time ago. “Was it… was it this painful back then?” The second cut was deeper. Blood instantly stained most of his white shirt. I was in unbearable agony, but no matter how I pleaded or cried out. Jason couldn’t hear or perceive me. Just as I tried to stop Jason’s self-mutilation again, my “hand” desperately brushed against the computer keyboard. Clack! One of the keyboard caps pressed down ever so slightly, yet distinctly. I could actually press a key! The sound was faint. But in the study’s deathly silence, a silence broken only by the blade slicing through flesh, it echoed like thunder. Jason’s movements froze instantly. His hand, poised to make another cut, halted mid-air. His bloodshot eyes stared in disbelief at the computer screen. There, on the screen, in a blank document I had personally pulled up, a few words slowly appeared. “It doesn’t hurt” Time itself seemed to freeze.
🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “306121”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn
Leave a Reply