It wasn't until my death that I understood.
I was nothing more than a pawn in the hands of my fiancé, Robert Morgan.
In college, rebellious and seeking to spite my father, I had agreed to date the poor boy, Robert. But I had been manipulated, targeted for my father's social connections and wealth. He was involved in illegal investments and money laundering.
He had even conspired with my father's competitor, making my father the scapegoat.
After eavesdropping on his phone call, I had planned to report him to the authorities, only to find myself kidnapped first.
He drugged me, staged a car accident, and I was thrown into the sea, presumed dead.
When my father heard the news, he suffered a heart attack and passed away on the spot.
Robert then colluded with scum to frame my childhood friend, Alistair, for plagiarism, leading to him being blacklisted online and facing huge penalties for breach of contract.
He was on the brink of bankruptcy.
Robert threatened Alistair: If he wanted to see me alive, he would admit to the plagiarism and compensate for his failed investments, amounting to thirty million.
I never expected Alistair to give up his beloved career to save me. When he released the chat logs, it was clear he was the original creator. But when he arrived with the thirty million, he found no sign of me.
Robert had Alistair captured and planned to stage his suicide, making it look like he had jumped to his death from depression. But when he grabbed the bag containing the money, it exploded.
Underneath the cash, a bomb was hidden.
As he lay dying, Alistair smiled, "Kinley, you've always said you're afraid of the dark."
"Don't be afraid, nothing can separate me from you anymore."
…
"Don't… Alistair," my soul drifted in the air, calling his name.
