Hating You to the Grave Chapter 4

In the three years since he left, my mom died too.

I worked a dangerous job, killed plenty of bad people, and became prey myself.

All my savings went into buying this café. Now that it was smashed, I didn’t know where to go.

Maybe the pain had paralyzed me. I sat in the wreckage, letting the night rain soak me to the bone.

Overnight, the headlines in New Orleans changed to "Devereaux Heir Returns for Revenge on Old Flame."

When the sun rose, I prepared to leave.

Before going, I faced the ruined shop and slowly knelt. I bowed my head three times.

Jules appeared out of nowhere. He hoisted me up from the ground with one hand.

"It's just a broken café. Is it worth all this drama?"

I slapped his hand away. I stood firm. Then I raised my hand and slapped him across the face three times.

Crisp. Loud.

"My parents' photos were in the shop. I can't find them," I said calmly. "Of course I have to bow."

He ran his tongue over his cheek, then raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Is that so? Three slaps for your mom's photo. Sounds like I got a bargain."

I ignored him and looked at the ruins.

He stood behind me, saying words meant to stab my heart.

"Evangeline, I'm talking to you."

I walked past him.

He caught up and blocked my way.

"Stop pretending you don't care! Look at you. Your face is as white as paper. Who are you trying to impress?"

"Just an old sickness acting up. Makes me look tired," I said, forcing a cold smile. "Julian Devereaux, do you really think you're important enough to affect my health?"

But I knew the truth.

He came back specifically to destroy me.

If my body were like before, I wouldn't mind playing with him again. I’d break his bones.

But now, just standing there drained all my energy.

...

At the hospital, the smell of disinfectant made me nauseous.

Several doctors looked at my scans, their expressions grim.

"How much of the medicine we prescribed last time do you have left?"

"It's gone."

"Gone?!" Dr. Lee raised his voice. "That was a three-month supply! It's only been a week!"

Dr. Lee had been treating me for a long time. His hesitation told me everything—my time was running out.

"Do you... have any family at home?" he asked tentatively.

"Dr. Lee, did you forget?" My voice was flat. "Dad's dead. Mom's gone. Just me."

He took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "You were maintaining well for three years. Why did this week..."

I looked at my phone. A news alert popped up—a photo of Jules holding Savannah at a banquet.

I thought I didn't care anymore, but he could still cut me deepest.

Julian Devereaux was the sharpest knife in my life.

"Your condition is critical. After stopping the meds... seven days, a month, three months... every moment is a danger zone."

"Take this bottle." He handed me a new prescription. "Take three when it hurts. Remember, maximum three..."

I didn't wait for him to finish. I opened the cap, poured a handful into my mouth, and dry-swallowed them.

It didn't matter how many. I just needed to suppress the bone-eating pain.

Seven days or three months. It made no difference to me.

After taking the pills, I squatted in the darkest corner of the hospital hallway, pressing my back against the cold tiles.

It was a trick I learned. Freezing myself helped numb the pain.

"Mommy, isn't that the sister who was in the bed next to us?"

"Her sickness... it can't be cured. Let's not disturb her. Poor child. No parents, and such a terrible disease. In the end... there won't be anyone to bury her."

The little girl looked up innocently. "But there must be someone in the world who loves her, right?"

I blinked my blurry eyes and focused on my phone screen.

It was a text from Jules.

He had been texting non-stop since last night, obsessively asking what compensation I wanted.

I thought about it. Maybe there was no one who loved me, but there was someone to collect my corpse.

I dialed the number I knew by heart.

He picked up instantly.

"Decided what you want?"

I took a breath, swallowing the metallic taste of blood in my throat.

"If you insist on compensation, Julian... come and collect my body when I die."