Chapter 2
615words
My forehead smashed into the muddy ground.
Foul-smelling mud instantly filled my nose and mouth.
"Open your mouth! Now apologize!"
Damon's hand pressed down like an iron vise.
Forced to open my mouth, I swallowed a mouthful of cold, bitter mud.
Grit scraped my throat raw as suffocation clawed at my lungs.
God, I wanted to vomit. Wanted to kill him.
But I had no weapon. Only this wretched life.
I choked back my nausea, swallowing both mud and dignity.
"I'm... sor... ry..."
"Louder! I can't hear you!"
Damon pressed harder, grinding my face deeper into the filth.
"I am... garbage..."
"I'm not worthy... to desecrate Elena's memory..."
I cried out, like the worthless thing he believed me to be.
Finally.
The crushing pressure on my head vanished.
I lay there retching violently, spitting out mouthfuls of black sludge.
Damon stood in the rain, eyes darting between my mud-covered face and the pristine gravestone photo.
His face showed no satisfaction, only a vast, hollow emptiness.
"Nothing like her..."
He collapsed to his knees, covering his face as he wept. "Nothing like her at all... Elena was always... immaculate..."
I lay in the mud, watching this broken man with ice in my veins.
Cry all you want.
Your so-called love is cheaper than this filth beneath me.
A harsh ringtone suddenly cut through the rain.
Damon didn't even flinch.
His phone tumbled onto the wet grass, vibrating insistently.
I was close enough to read the message preview glowing on the screen:
【Mr. Sterling, Demolition Team in position. Proceeding with Valentine Manor ruins demolition tomorrow, 6 AM as scheduled.】
Demolition?!
My pupils contracted to pinpoints.
That was my home!
Those ruins held the truth about the fire three years ago—and the only evidence—the safe!
If they demolish it tomorrow, the evidence would be destroyed forever, and I'd remain nothing but a shadow, a stand-in who'd never see justice!
Hell no!
I lunged for the phone, mud-covered fingers scrambling across wet grass.
"Give me that!"
Damon snatched it away, glanced at the screen, and answered, his voice instantly turning to ice.
"I said, I don't want a single brick left standing."
"By six tomorrow morning, I want that place wiped off the map."
He hung up and turned to leave.
"Wait!"
I lunged desperately, clutching his mud-splattered legs.
"Get off!" Damon looked down with revulsion. "Haven't you swallowed enough filth for one night?"
"Take me there..."
I raised my mud-caked face, staring up at him with desperate intensity.
"Take me to the manor...please."
"Why the hell would I do that?"
Damon kicked my hand away, mockingly patting my filthy cheek.
"What? Looking for cheap thrills in a real haunted house?"
"Because that's where she lived..."
I grabbed his pant leg again, pressing my face against his rain-soaked shoes, my voice both humble and hungry:
"I need to see...what kind of place could create a woman who still haunts you."
"Just one look. I don't care if I die there."
Damon went still.
He studied me, trying to determine if I was truly this pathetic or if I had some hidden agenda.
Finally, his lips curled into a cruel smile.
"Fine."
He grabbed my hair and shoved me into the car's backseat.
"Since you're so desperate to see it, I'll take you there."
"To see that pile of ashes."
"And while we're at it, I'll consider burying you there tomorrow."
The car door slammed shut with finality.
I huddled in the corner, spitting grit from my mouth.
My tongue tasted of copper and earth.
But I smiled anyway.
Damon, you think you're dragging me to hell.
But you have no idea.
I'm going home to find my weapon.
