On the third day after I ran away from my wedding, my fiancé Cassius Sylvester committed suicide in our home, leaving all his inheritance to me. While sorting through his belongings, I found a wall full of photos of me, and bloodstains scattered across the floor. His assistant told me, "Mr. Sylvester has loved you for many years. His depression was severe, but only when he saw you, or thought of you, did he feel slightly better..." Every detail was chilling and suffocating, yet there was an inexplicable sadness. So, when faced with the arranged marriage of my childhood sweetheart, I smiled and refused. "I won't leave." I wanted to see just how foolish the man who loved me so deeply could be.
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