Loved You Once But He's My Forever

Billionaire Is 108

Chapter 108 Attending My Own Funeral

It felt strange. I had only spent a single day with him, so why was he so worked up?

Maybe he had drunk too much, I thought, but I didn't dwell on it.

Gently, I patted his back and said, "Mr. Bolton, about what happened earlier..."

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The man lying on top of me propped himself up with his arm, looking at me intently. His eyes lingered for a moment, finally settling on my forehead. The sadness in his eyes evaporated in an instant. Within moments, his expression returned to its usual coldness, tinged with disappointment and a subtle sense of loss.

"Sorry," he said, his voice distant and indifferent, as he moved away from me.

He slumped to the floor, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His posture far from the usual strength and dominance he once commanded. Instead, there was an unshakable sense of melancholy about him.

In my memory, Carter had always been like a warrior-stoic, composed, and coldly defiant-even though he was disabled. He had never shown such vulnerability, or even a hint of weakness.

He didn't seem to care about how others saw him. He simply sat there, staring blankly ahead, as if he had no intention of getting up or doing anything else.

The atmosphere was heavy, eerie even, and I didn't know what to say.

"Well...

"You

We spoke at the same time. I quickly fell silent and waited for him to continue.

After a brief pause, he finally spoke. "Did you see her?"

I tilted my head, trying to understand who he meant by her.

Carter picked up a bottle of wine casually, his fingers tracing the bottle's shape. His head hung low as his voice came out raspy. "How did you know about the secret of the statue?"

After all, this was a huge loophole. With Carter's sharp mind, it was hard not to be suspicious.

Luckily, this matter was so bizarre that it couldn't be explained by logic or reason alone.

saw the statue, I felt something strange,

a white dress. She looked a lot like me, except she didn't have that red mole on her forehead." Carter tightened his grip on the bottle, the veins in his hand standing out. His long lashes shadowed his eyes,

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I was unconscious, I heard a soft voice. She said her name was

my uninjured hand with such force that I winced. His grip was strong-this body, although younger than mine, was far

and soft, even the

endured the pain, confused

throat moved as he swallowed, his tone urgent. What did

why he seemed so invested in this, especially since we had barely shared any meaningful connection in the

that he felt pity for me and

I hesitated, then added, "Mr. Bolton, I remember Luke's wife was named Chloe Sander, right? Could the woman in the statue be his wife?" Carter closed his eyes, clearly

her into a statue and placed it at the

I had only suspected Anna, but I had no concrete

she wanted was Luke, she could have stopped

own

Sanders had already given her plenty of wealth in recent years. Why

things she had said to Grandma-she seemed to harbor a hatred for me, yes, but her loathing of Grandma was

police have

find the real culprit, it won't

won't matter,"

Finding the true murderer will give her peace, even in the afterlife Perhaps my outburst was too intense. Carter looked at me, his eyes full of curiosity. "You didn't know Chloe, but it seems you

rational mind. He was nothing like Luke, who blindly believed whatever crap Anna

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gaze sent a chill through me. For a moment, I almost revealed the

Chloe.

words were right on the tip of my tongue, but I quickly swallowed them back