He Killed My Grandmother for His First Love

Chapter 6

As I lowered my head, I noticed the floor beneath me was dusted with gray ash.

It wasn't just any ash. It was my grandmother's remains.

Elaina had spread them out on purpose, to torture me.

"Well," she said with a twisted smile, "I just realized... letting you die like this is way too easy."

She tilted her head mockingly. "What if I let Phillip send you to hell for me instead?"

Her words made my blood run cold.

"Tell me, Charlee," she continued, drawing closer, "do you think Phillip would set you on fire... just to make me happy?"

Panic crashed over me in a tidal wave. I thrashed against the ropes with everything I had. The coarse fibers dug into my skin, slicing deep into my wrists until I felt the warmth of blood, but the knots wouldn't budge.

Then, right in front of me, Elaina pulled out her phone and called him.

She put on the perfect voice. Soft. Shaky. Sweet.

"Phillip," she sniffled, "I was messing around with matches and... I think I accidentally set a fire in some old house. I didn't mean to. I just... I panicked. What if someone finds out and reports me for arson?"

Within seconds, Phillip was cutting his meeting short and speeding over. Loyal, predictable Phillip.

When he arrived, the fire hadn't spread yet. It was just a small flame licking at the corner of a curtain. Elaina had already locked me in the back room. Through a crack in the warped wooden door, I saw her throw herself into his arms like a damsel in distress.

"Phillip, I was so scared," she whimpered. "What if someone sees and calls the cops?"

Phillip stroked her back like she was made of glass.

"Don't worry, Elaina," he said softly. "Even if someone reports you, we'll have Charlee take the case."

He chuckled. "She's a top attorney. Never lost a trial."

My heart shattered.

The pain wasn't sharp, it was raw, brutal, like something feral had sunk its claws into my chest and was tearing me apart from the inside.

And then he added, "Besides, I've got a better idea."

I watched in stunned horror as he popped open the trunk of his car and pulled out several cans of gasoline.

Gasoline.

He unscrewed the caps and started dousing the floor, the walls, everything. The sharp, acrid stench filled my nose and burned the back of my throat.

I fought against the ropes again, eyes wide, heart thundering. My muffled screams were barely audible through the gag, but I couldn't stop.

"It's just an abandoned dump," Phillip said casually. "No one cares if it goes up in flames."

"But we have to make sure it burns clean. No trace left behind. Just in case."

He turned to Elaina, tapping her on the nose like it was all some kind of joke.

My whole body trembled with rage and disbelief.

To protect her… he was going to destroy everything that belonged to my grandmother.

Everything she'd ever loved.

I slammed myself against the door, the wood groaning under the pressure. My gagged cries echoed faintly in the cramped room.

Phillip paused, glancing toward the noise.

"What was that?" he muttered.

"Probably a stray dog," Elaina said quickly.

Phillip narrowed his eyes. "Yeah... Dogs around here are usually rabid. Stay behind me, just in case."

Elaina stepped behind him obediently, but not before flashing me a triumphant smile through the crack. She raised her wrist, my grandmother's jade bracelet glinting in the firelight, like a trophy.

Then Phillip struck his lighter.

The flame flickered in the dark, casting shadows across his smug face.

"Rabid dogs," he said coldly, "should burn with the rest of the trash."