Chapter 4

When I arrived at the hospital, Dad was still in the ICU.

The rhythmic beeping of the machines grated on my nerves.

Mom was sobbing by the door; seeing me, she clutched my sleeve.

"Avery, your dad's company just had its funding completely cut off!"

"What are we going to do?!"

My vision blurred with white spots, but I still tried to comfort Mom.

During Dad's time in the ICU, I ran around to countless factories.

Begging them to take on our family's orders.

But soon, the identical, hesitant excuses from every owner made it clear: Liam had already pulled strings, making sure no one would help us.

This sudden disaster that struck our family, it was all because of me.

Self-blame, guilt, and a constant wave of nausea rising from my stomach overwhelmed me.

The cold wind bit into me.

Countless times I dialed that unfamiliar number, desperate for Liam to give my family a break, but I was always met with a busy signal.

Finally, things took a turn.

Dad was safely moved out of the ICU.

His connections, cultivated over so many years, finally paid off.

A small company agreed to secretly help us fulfill some orders.

This bought us some breathing room.

Things were steadily improving.

Just as I was about to head to the factory to oversee production, a crowd had gathered at our community entrance.

When they saw me, they all scattered, shouting and fleeing quickly.

I stepped closer and saw Liam's wanted poster, starkly displayed in the center of the community bulletin board.

His features were clearly printed.

The words 'EXTREMELY DANGEROUS' were highlighted in red.

The former detective became a wanted fugitive overnight, and no one knew what Liam had done.

Everyone who had any connection to Liam became a target of public scorn.

The red spray paint yelling 'GET OUT OF THIS COMMUNITY' on our front door was scrubbed off countless times, only to reappear.

Our business partners shook their heads, backing out mid-agreement, saying they couldn't risk getting involved in such a mess.

Our family, having barely survived one crisis, plunged back into rock bottom, every breath tight with tension.

We were forced to move out of the community, ending up in a dilapidated house on the outskirts of town.

The severe blow caused me to develop emotional issues.

In my dreams, I often revisited our engagement day, each time screaming and recoiling from the ring that once symbolized infinite happiness.

Later, the news of Liam's death arrived.

All my lingering obsessions and hatred were rendered meaningless, and I was admitted to a mental hospital.

Until now, receiving his invitation.

My memories ended there as the car pulled up to the venue entrance.

"Are you sure you still want to go to his wedding?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, a sarcastic smirk playing on her lips.

"Who knows if it's even Liam? Didn't everyone say he was dead?"

"Maybe it's just a sick prank."

"How can a dead man come back to life?"

I lowered my eyes, looking directly at Chloe.

"I just want to know the truth."

"Why did he do this to me, try to utterly destroy my family?"

"I won't let him get away with it."

"I need closure. And I need retribution."

Chloe swung her legs out of the car, lifted her chin, and a long-lost smile returned to her lips.

"Let's go. I want to see what kind of wedding a dead fugitive can even throw."

The moment we pushed the door open, a tension settled over both of us.

The door creaked open, slowly revealing the full extent of the venue.

The carpet was strewn with fresh flowers, intertwined with ribbons tied in delicate bows.

The crystal chandeliers refracted the lights into a dazzling array of colors.

The melodious piano music played on without pause.

My eyes blurred slightly. I wanted to make out the figures on stage, but found only blank cardboard cutouts.

Looking closer.

It wasn't just the stage.

The entire lavish and grand venue was utterly deserted...