He Stepped on My Ashes After I was Gone novel Chapter 3

Christopher might have been strong, but William was trained. After a few rounds, Christopher was pinned to the ground, his face bruised and swollen.

I paced frantically, unable to do anything.

"Look at you, Moore," William taunted, holding him down. "You're pathetic. Getting beaten half to death over Olivia, and for what? She’s happily enjoying your protection, without a care in the world."

"Is she really worth it?"

Christopher let out a bitter laugh, blood dripping from his split lip. "William Miller, the real pathetic one here is you. You couldn’t even recognize your mother’s real killer. You hurt the person you claim to love. You're living a life more miserable than a stray dog."

"What the hell did you just say?" William snarled, his fist pulling back to strike again.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted the chaos.

"Mr. Miller, we found surveillance footage of the car accident. And... the autopsy report on Mrs. Miller."

William froze for a moment, allowing Christopher the chance to land a punch to his jaw.

"Ugh..."

Christopher stood up, towering over William, who lay on the floor, stunned.

"Now," he said coldly, "take your men and get the hell out of my house."

But William leaped up, shoving Christopher aside and stormed into the study.

The desk was littered with photos of me, each one showing my bloodied face, so damaged it was hard to recognize me. In some, my features were barely discernible, with one eye hanging out of its socket, and a large dent caving in my left temple.

I quickly turned away, not wanting to look at the gruesome images of my death. I knew how awful it had been. Even the forensic team had struggled to identify me at first.

But there was William, rifling through the photos as if he were searching for something, clinging to every detail. His grip was so tight that the edges of the pictures crumpled under his fingers. He listened to his subordinates' explanation, then glanced at the screen, his face contorted in disbelief.

The surveillance footage showed the moment of my car crash—two vehicles colliding head-on, my car flying through the air in an instant.

It was a horrifying sight.

William's eyes turned red instantly. His hand, gripping the mouse, trembled, yet he stubbornly watched the video over and over again.

"How did you know... she was in a car accident?" His voice was hoarse, strained.

"Christopher Moore, tell Olivia she won’t escape me. Not in this life, not even in death. She’ll always be mine."

I lowered my gaze, swallowing the bitterness in my chest.

It didn’t matter anymore. I was already dead.

Whether William believed the truth or not, it no longer held any weight.

He could never hurt me again.

I was forced to follow William as we left Christopher Moore’s house. As we walked out, I felt an intense gaze on me. Turning back, I locked eyes with Christopher. His eyes were suddenly red, lips trembling.

“Olivia.”

I froze for a few seconds, my eyes welling up. It wasn’t until he mouthed “Olivia” again that I realized—he could see me.

My nose stung with emotion, and I wanted to run to him, but somehow my body kept moving further away from him.

Sitting in the car, I felt the suffocating tension, my hands trembling with excitement.