Part 3My Family Killed Me and My Wife Avenged Me

Julian quickly called Martha, the butler, into the bedroom.

"Martha, can you smell any cologne or other scents on me?"

Martha leaned close to Julian's neck and wrist, sniffing. "I don't smell anything particular, sir. Just a fresh scent of shampoo on your hair."

Julian frowned, pacing the room a few steps, then asked, "When you used to take care of him, what did he smell like?"

Martha thought for a moment. "He didn't have any particular smell, I think. He wasn't very particular about personal care products; he rarely used the things in the bathroom cabinet. He always seemed very clean, with hardly any scent."

Martha was someone my mother, Eleanor, had arranged to join Seraphina's household six months ago. Eleanor claimed I didn't know how to 'manage a marriage,' and Martha, supposedly skilled in handling domestic affairs, was there to 'assist' me.

The shift in the Smith family's attitude toward me had given me a fleeting, unrealistic hope.

Even though Martha never truly helped me after she arrived.

It still allowed me to hold onto a glimmer of fantasy about family affection.

But later I learned that the moment Martha appeared before me, it was the first step in the Smith family's plan to have Julian replace me.

Martha's arrival at Seraphina's house was purely to observe my daily habits and secretly film videos for Julian to mimic me.

Hearing Martha's subtle jab at me, Julian's lips curved into a smile. "Not only was he born poor, but he was also destined for a short life."

A hint of confusion crossed Martha's face. "Short-lived?"

Julian's smile faltered, and he quickly rattled off the rehearsed story. "His health was always poor. That old man who raised him kept saying he needed to take him to see a doctor, always finding ways to get more money from my parents."

"Always asking for money! And that boy, so timid and always doing everything himself, made it inconvenient for me to even order the servants around."

I angrily rushed forward, but it was useless; I just passed right through his body.

The Smith family only provided a meager allowance for the first few years; after that, there was nothing. Grandpa Charles raised me through his own frugality.

They only remembered me when they needed someone to take the fall.

Martha began to offer Julian advice. "Perhaps you could try using the shampoo from the master bathroom more often? It might be that the brand you used to prefer had a longer-lasting scent, and the smell hasn't completely dissipated."

"Leo isn't particular about such things; he just used whatever the house purchased. Naturally, he wouldn't pay attention to these details like you do."

Julian pressed his lips together, grumbling impatiently, "I use it every day! How can there still be a residue? Fine, I'll wash my hair again later."

Julian dismissed Martha, then made a phone call.

"Madame Celeste, you've got Leo's spirit confined, right?"

I floated close to the phone, hearing the reply.

"Rest assured, I've suppressed him with a binding ritual; he won't even have a chance to cross over to the other side!"

A binding ritual, huh? I couldn't help but roll my eyes, floating around the room. I still didn't know why I was tethered to Julian, but would a real medium be so obsequious? Her tone sounded more like she was terrified of losing a client.