For me, watching it all unfold was pure torment. I could no longer tell whether it was my old chest injury flaring up again or simply my heart breaking beyond repair.
I closed my eyes, but the pain didn't fade—it only shifted forms. Memories began to claw their way back to the surface. Kayla's laughter, the way she used to tug my sleeve when she was upset, her soft humming as she cooked... All of it played behind my closed eyelids like a cruel hallucination.
By the time I got out of the car, I realized my face was wet. I hadn't even noticed the tears until they cooled against the breeze.
Kayla was already strolling across the temple grounds with Stefan, her arm tucked in his like they were on some peaceful retreat. She left me to kneel alone at the altar, telling me to pray for Stefan's recovery and to wait for them to return.
So I did. I knelt on the cold stone tiles and murmured prayer after prayer, not for Stefan—but for some clarity, some justice. Anything. The temple lanterns burned low and by the time dawn approached, I could no longer hold myself upright. My strength gave out and I slumped forward, finally drifting into sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw Amber in a panic, scurrying toward a corner of the temple grounds. In her hands was something I recognized instantly.
The urn.
I pushed myself off the ground, pain slicing through my chest with every movement. But I didn't stop. I rushed at her and tore the urn from her grasp.
"This is my child's ashes!" My voice came out hoarse and cracked. "What were you planning to do with them?!"
Amber looked like she wanted to disappear. "The exorcist said Mr. Harvey is being tormented by a malicious spirit. Miss Anderson told me to bring the urn... She thought maybe the ashes were the cause."
My grip on the urn tightened as fury and disbelief welled up in my throat. "No."
Amber didn't try to fight me. She just lowered her head and hurried off to call Kayla.
A few minutes later, Kayla appeared, flanked by two bodyguards. Her expression was unreadable.
"Liam, give me the urn," she said calmly, like she was asking me to hand over a box of old books.
I clutched it tighter, ignoring the stabbing pain in my ribs. "Kayla, this is your child too. How can you be so cruel? Stefan—"
Her hand lashed out before I could finish. The slap cracked across my cheek, silencing me.
She looked startled by her own action. Her hand trembled slightly and for a moment, I thought I saw regret flicker in her eyes.
"Stefan doesn't know about this," she whispered, her voice strained. "And he never will. Don't bring it up again. As for the child... I owe you. In the future, we can have more. I'll make it up to you."
Then she turned to the bodyguards. "Take it."
I struggled, but they pinned me down easily. One pried the urn from my arms while the other restrained me. I could only watch helplessly as Kayla walked toward the edge of the mountain.
"No!" I roared, trying to break free, but it was too late.
She tossed the urn into the ravine like it was nothing.
Without thinking, I ran.
Ignoring the bodyguards, the sharp pain and the dizziness clouding my vision, I hurled myself over the edge after it.
"Liam!" I heard Kayla scream, her voice breaking. "Get down there! Bring him back! Now!"
The four bodyguards jumped into action, scrambling down the slope after me. I couldn't hear them anymore. My head was spinning and everything blurred into gray.
That was when Amber arrived, panting. "Miss Anderson! Mr. Harvey—he's not well again. He's asking for you."
Kayla hesitated, staring down the ravine where I had vanished. Her lips parted like she was about to call out again.
But then her phone rang. Stefan's voice trembled through the speaker. "Kayla... where are you? I can't breathe. I feel like I'm dying..."
"I'm coming back right now, Stefan. Don't worry," she whispered and hung up.
She turned away.
As she walked back toward the temple, she paused only once.
"Keep watch," she told Amber. "When they bring Liam up, send him straight to the hospital. Tell him... I'll come find him once everything is settled."
But once she saw Stefan again, she forgot me completely.
That night, word came that the villa in Greymoor was finally complete. Kayla chartered a private jet and flew with Stefan to the estate.
The place was luxurious beyond measure—built on my ancestors' tomb, though no one would guess it by looking. But not long after they moved in, strange things began to happen. Stefan was tormented by sleepless nights and ghostly hallucinations. The servants whispered of shadows flitting through the halls and cold winds with no source.
Kayla, furious, accused me of playing some tricks.
"Didn't I tell you to keep an eye on Liam?" she snapped at Amber over the phone. "Why is he still sneaking into Greymoor pretending to be some ghost to scare Stefan?!"
There was silence.
Then Amber's voice came through, trembling.
"Miss Anderson... Mr. Green is already dead."
