Chapter 8
An overwhelming surge of hope coursed through his entire body.
Without wasting a second, he ordered the funeral service to be called off and dismissed all the guests.
Then, turning to his assistant, his voice came out sharp, demanding.
“Find out where Loviisa was yesterday. Check every goddamn flight–every single one.”
The assistant dug into the records and found that after clearing up the rumors, I had gone to the coastline.
The photographer who had captured the video swore up and down that he had seen me jump.
But Caspian trusted his memory–my red birthmark had always been positioned slightly higher on my
arm.
He turned New York City upside down, exhausting every possible avenue to find me.
From major TV stations and internet searches to street posters and flyers.
Months passed without a single trace of me.
Caspian returned to the mansion, defeated.
The wedding photo was missing from the pristine white wall. He frantically called for the housekeeper.
“Who the hell took down our wedding photo?”
The housekeeper hesitated before sighing.
“Sir… you don’t remember? Mrs. Hyperion removed it herself.”
Caspian flashed back to that day–me dragging a chair over to take down our wedding photo.
He had stood in the doorway, watching me with detached amusement.
When the housekeeper tried to help, I insisted on doing it myself. I had taken the photo out of the frame and thrown it in the trash.
Caspian rushed to check the garbage but couldn’t find it.
“Where the hell is the wedding photo?! Who was on cleaning duty today?”
14.42
When Regrets Set Us Free
Chapter 9
The maids stood frozen, none of them daring to look him in the eye.
After a long silence, a new maid looked up, terror in her eyes.
“S–Sir… it was me. I didn’t check properly. I thought it was just trash, so I threw it away.”
Caspian approached her step by step, his face ice–cold.
“Who the fuck do you think you are? Did I give you permission to touch me and Lovi’s wedding photo?”
The new maid backed away in fear.
Caspian fired her on the spot, with a vicious threat that any cleaning company in New York that hired her would become an enemy of Hyperion Group.
That same night, he sent everyone to scour the entire city for the photo.
When they finally found it–It was a crumpled mess.
I had cut myself out of the picture.
Caspian collapsed to the floor, his face contorted in agony.
“Lovi, this was the only picture we had. How could you be this fucking cruel?”
Once, before everything went to shit, we had been happy.
But it was painfully brief.
And every memory of it–every photo, every gift–Caspian had destroyed them all himself.
Now, he stumbled into the walk–in closet, his eyes scanning the untouched jewelry boxes.
I had taken only my clothes. Except for a single coat, still hanging in the wardrobe–Caspian had bought me during our first date at the mall.
He hugged it desperately, greedily inhaling, hoping to catch the scent of lilacs that I used to wear.
But I hadn’t worn that coat in ages–my scent had long since faded.
By chance, Caspian felt something in the pocket and discovered an envelope.
“Loviisa… I knew you wouldn’t leave without saying something. This has to be-”
He opened it with frantic excitement, but as he saw the contents, his face went completely pale.
1227
