Part 2After Five Years Abroad, Everyone Believed I’d Perished

I was arranging to have my mother's grave relocated when I noticed a new headstone right next to hers. A headstone that belonged to me.

The inscription read: 【Beloved Wife, Cathy Graham】.

In front of it lay a bouquet of fresh roses, a small St. Christopher medal, and a slice of the chocolate fudge cake that used to be my favorite.

The cemetery administrator followed my gaze and his eyes widened slightly.

"Ms. Davenport, look at the photo on that headstone. Doesn't she look just like you?"

He chuckled nervously. "If I didn't know you just flew in from Paris, I'd think I was seeing a ghost!"

I smiled.

"She does, but it's not me."

My name is Stella Davenport. I’m a senior writer for the Parisian magazine MT and the sole heiress to the Davenport Corporation.

I just celebrated my third wedding anniversary with my husband. Our son is two.

A winner, by all accounts.

The woman on that headstone was Cathy Graham.

Five years ago, after my father's illegitimate daughter was diagnosed with depression, my father and brother arranged a wedding for her behind my back.

The groom was the man I had loved since we were children, my fiancé of eight years.

She was a complete and utter loser.

We were no longer the same person.

Tearing my eyes away, I turned back to discuss the relocation details with the administrator.

Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the air from behind me.

"Cathy!"

I ignored it, continuing my conversation.

A strong hand suddenly gripped my arm.

Under the administrator's astonished gaze, I stumbled, spinning around to meet Liam's eyes.

"Cathy," he breathed, his voice tight with disbelief. "You… you're not dead?"

A cold smile touched my lips, but my eyes drifted to the red rose in his hand.

Five years.

Since when did Liam's eyes become as red as the roses he held?