After My Death, My Husband Who Threw Me Into the Hunting Grounds Went Insane novel Chapter 15

The media exposed Chloe's plagiarism, finally clearing my name.

Even in death, she was nailed to the pillar of shame, condemned and reviled by all.

Liam wasn't spared either. He was convicted of charges including assault and manslaughter, landing him in prison.

After his release, he spent his entire fortune chasing a single, impossible dream: to see me one last time.

Legends spoke of a rare and mystical spice that could allow the living to meet their deceased loved ones in dreams.

Liam nearly worked himself to death just to obtain a single ounce of it.

"Emily," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I've waited so long for you. It's been ten years, but no butterfly has ever landed on me."

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his face a mixture of overwhelming relief and joy.

"This is the first time you've appeared in my dreams since you left."

He reached out to take my hand, but I stepped back, my gaze cold.

"Are you still angry with me?" Liam asked, his head hanging low, his expression filled with sorrow.

"No," I replied sharply. "It's not anger. I just don't want anything to do with you anymore."

"That's not true!" he protested, his voice frantic. "You've just forgotten how much we once loved each other."

In a desperate attempt to remind me, Liam unrolled a canvas.

"Look, Emily. These are all paintings of us."

One showed me baking a birthday cake for him.

Another depicted him planting a field of lavender for me.

There was one of us walking hand-in-hand along the beach, the waves lapping at our feet.

He displayed them like a child showing off prized toys, his enthusiasm unwavering.

I glanced around the room and realized it was overflowing with canvases.

"And these," he added, pulling out more paintings.

One showed us holding a boy and a girl in our arms, joy lighting up our faces.

Another depicted us in old age, our faces lined with wrinkles, our hair white, still holding each other close.

Each image radiated love and happiness, but to me, they were nothing but bitter reminders of what could never be.

I interrupted him, my voice firm.

"Liam, I'm dead. These are nothing more than your fantasies."

For the first time, Liam, who had always carried himself with such pride, lowered himself to beg.

"Emily, please… if you want, we can see each other in dreams. Forever."

"If you want children, we can adopt. Two, even. Anything you want. Just… please, don't leave me."

I frowned, my patience wearing thin.

"Liam, stop lying to yourself. The moment you doubted me, there was no going back. Take care of yourself, because I won't be here for you anymore."

No matter how desperately Liam called out, his voice breaking with anguish, I didn't look back.

I couldn't help but secretly watch him. And I had to admit, he was probably the most handsome man I'd ever seen.

He had black hair, piercing gray eyes, and wore a custom blue suit that screamed wealth.

Maybe I should talk to him? We were family now, after all.

Just as I hesitated, his gaze turned to me.

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest, and I instinctively smiled back. But Lucas didn't smile. He just stared at me, then slowly took another sip of his drink.

Damn jerk. I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Then, a blonde woman walked up to him, and he instantly shifted his attention to her.

I kept watching. She looked his age—tall, mature, and sexy.

His girlfriend? Was this his type?

Wait. Why do I care? I shouldn't be thinking about my stepbrother like that.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside.

Life lesson: Never develop a crush on your stepbrother, especially one who doesn't like you.

But I didn't need to worry. His dad was sending me to Harvard and supporting my education.

Compared to my last life, being disliked by my stepbrother was nothing. Plus, his rich father would use money to make me happy.

Well. Truly a perfect start. Cheers to me.