Chapter 1: Your Wife.. she’s is already dead.

In the imperial capital, in the suburbs.

Dozens of mangled male corpses were scattered around in disarray.

The blood seeping from their wounds dyed the ground a dark red.

The large abandoned factory was filled with a nauseating smell of blood, making it bad to a human health.

"President Luther," Ramsey, looking at the man with blood trickling from his mouth, cautiously started to speak.

"Your wife... she's already dead. You..." Since discovering his wife's body, Sinclair Luther has thrown up blood twice.

If this continued, his old illness would relapse, and the consequences would be unthinkable.

"Shut up!" Sinclair interrupted Ramsey, his handsome face bearing an intimidating harshness.

However, when he turned to look at Camilla, his demeanor softened again.

"She's not dead.

She won't die."

As he spoke, he gently lifted Camilla into his arms and proceeded to walk out, his actions careful, as if he were cradling the most precious thing in the world.

"Camilla, don't be scared, I'll take you home."

Sinclair steps over the corpses of the assassins, his handsome face showing a chillingly sinister aura.

"Chop these bodies into pieces and feed them to the dogs."

Ramsey nods

Luther Residence.

The madam is dead?!

Seeing Sinclair carrying Camilla's body, everyone was scared into a deathly pallor, frozen in place.

They knew that Mrs. Camilla Luther is the life of Mr. Sinclair Luther.

Now, it seems that the sky is about to fall on the Luther Family.

With this in mind, everyone was so frightened that they didn't dare to breathe.

The huge mansion fell into an eerie and absolute silence.

Ramsey didn't dare to delay, and immediately sent people to inform Mr. Sinclair's Grandpa of the situation.

In the room.

Cleaned and dressed in a white long dress, Camilla lay quietly on the bed.

Her face was beautiful, and her long, wavy hair lazily sprawled on the pillow.

Besides the ghastly strangulation marks on her neck and her absence of breath, she looked as if she was merely asleep.

Sinclair sat at the edge of the bed quietly observing Camilla, his dark, whirling, ink-colored eyes contained an almost consuming tenderness.

Outside, the last thread of light completely faded away, plunging the entire world into darkness.

"Camilla," He caressed Camilla's cheek, his voice was exceedingly hoarse.

"In the end, you still hated me, didn't you?"

Gently stroking Camilla's hand, his raging scarlet eyes were filled with self-mockery and sorrow.

"You resented me for using unscrupulous methods to keep you by my side."

"You hated me for restricting your freedom."

"You despised my obsessive possessiveness."

"You hated... everything ABOUT me."

A mocking, bleak smile played on his face. "But, what can I do?"

Sinclair started to chuckle with his narrow, elongated ink-colored eyes, they were just like a pool of stagnant water.

"My world is dark and sordid.

You were the only light that slipped in.

Once I touched it – even once, I couldn't let go."

He quietly looked at Camilla for a long, long time, then leaned down and kissed her lips.

"Rest assured, I'll make sure those who hurt you have no place to rest in death."

Sinclair left the room with firm steps.

"Wait for me, I won't be long."

The aura of ruthless killing intent that radiated from him made the air almost congeal.

Sinclair was unaware that the spirit of Camilla was standing laconically by his side.

For reasons unknown, after her death, her soul was trapped within a radius of three meters of Sinclair.

Unable to leave, unable to escape.

If he moved, she could only follow.

Camilla curled her lips slightly, her eyes filled with helplessness.

She didn't expect that even after her death, Sinclair was still unwilling to let her go.

However, what Camilla wanted to know most at this moment was: Who was it that sent the people who murdered her?

Her thoughts traced back to what happened before the incident.

Camilla received a call saying that her uncle had suddenly fallen ill and was sent to her hospital.

Upon receiving the news, she drove to the destination as fast as she could.

Unexpectedly, halfway there, a truck suddenly sped towards her without any warning.

With such close proximity, and the truck out of control, it was too late for her to dodge.

After a fierce whirl of heaven and earth, she was dragged out of the car and taken to an abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of town.

Later, she was strangled to death. It was only when Sinclair held her lifeless body in his arms that she regained consciousness.

Of course, by then, she was already in the form of a spirit.

At that moment, "Cre-eak--"

The sound of a door opening interrupted her recollections.

The scene before her eyes made her pupils contract sharply.

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