Part 1Echoes of a Silent Love

On the third day after I ran away from our wedding, my fiancé took his own life in our new home, leaving his entire estate to me.

While cleaning up his belongings, I found a room covered wall-to-wall with photos of me, and the floor stained with dark, dried blood.

His assistant told me, "Mr. Thorne loved you for many years.

"His depression was severe, but seeing you, thinking of you, was the only thing that gave him peace..."

Every revelation was shocking, suffocating, and inexplicably tragic.

So, when I was reborn, facing my childhood friend's plan to help me escape, I smiled and refused.

"I'm not leaving."

I want to see just how foolish this man, who loved me more than his own life, really is.

* * *

Julian Thorne died on the third day after I fled our wedding.

My father and brother had just apologized to him about my disappearance. Moments after they left the estate, news broke that Julian had slit his wrists.

Resuscitation failed. He was gone.

In his will, drafted long ago, he left everything to me.

I received the call from my brother while hiding out in Europe. My expression froze.

To me, Julian was a bastard who forced a marriage upon my family. We were strangers.

But everything that followed suggested he had loved me for a very long time.