Plot Twist, The 'Dead' Ex is Thriving

Chapter 8: Midnight

I tossed the thick stack of letters into the fire, then picked up the photographs.

Vincent Montgomery and Daniel Harrison stood on either side of me, their smiles bright and carefree.

But now, looking back, it all felt like a cruel joke.

One by one, I lit the photos, watching as the smiles faded into ash.

The flames reflected in my eyes.

As the fire burned, fragments of the letters caught my attention.

Daniel had written: "I will always cherish and protect my little sister. I'll make sure Lauren remains a princess forever."

Vincent had promised: "When I grow up, I'll marry Lauren. She'll be my wife, and we'll have two children—a big brother and a little sister."

They had sworn those vows to me with absolute sincerity.

They had once claimed I meant more to them than their own lives.

But now, the letters had yellowed with age.

The ink had faded, just like those hollow promises, destined to vanish with the wind.

The last of the letters burned to embers, the heat searing my fingertips.

I let it drop, watching as it drifted onto the gown spread across the floor.

The flames grew, licking at the curtains and wooden crates, thick smoke billowing outside.

I stood motionless, my face flushed from the heat, tears stinging my smoke-filled eyes.

Vincent called.

I didn't answer.

Soon, Daniel tried again.

I hung up.

Just as I was about to block and delete their numbers, a message from Vincent appeared.

"Lauren, no matter what, Emily is still your sister."

"I hope you'll congratulate her on this important milestone. She really wants your blessing."

"Tomorrow, I'll buy you the jewelry you like. Don't be stubborn anymore."

Daniel's message followed.

"Lauren, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"And Mom's necklace—I'll have an identical one made. Please forgive me."

I wanted to laugh—and I did, even as tears spilled over.

I replied to both.

To Vincent: "I'll never bless her. I hope she and her mother rot in hell."

To Daniel: "Why don't you dig yourself a grave and beg Mom for forgiveness?"

After sending the messages, I blocked and deleted every trace of them.

Pulling my suitcase behind me, I took one last look at the villa—the house that held so many memories—then turned and walked away without hesitation.

Everything that needed to be destroyed was gone. I had nothing left to cling to.

Not long after I left, the night wind toppled a burning candle.

At first, it was just a small flame.

But the dry air fed the fire, letting it grow wilder.

Until the entire villa was swallowed in flames.

The home that held countless memories crumbled into ruins.