Chapter 1
Xanthe
was dead.
Her spirit hovered over the graveyard; she was lamenting her tragic fate. Once the heiress of the prestigious Nightshade Group, she had fallen hard for a do uchebag, ending with her family destroyed and herself dead. It was both sad and absurd. Just as her soul was about to dissipate, a strange figure caught her eye.
Underneath the dense pine trees, a sleek, pitch black Rolls-Royce was parked. From it stepped a striking man, who was cradling a bouquet of vibrant, blue-violet irises.
Those bright-colored flowers, vivid and dazzling, were her favorites during her lifetime.
As he approached, she could see his face clearly.
It was hauntingly beautiful sharp, hawkish eyebrows over deep eyes, a straight nose leading to a chiseled jawline. He looked like a masterpiece crafted by the heavens, flawless in every way.
Wasn’t this Orion Lockwood, the prominent heir of the Lockwood Group from Crestwood? What was he doing here, standing by her grave?
Driven by curiosity, she watched as he stopped in front of her tombstone, his eyes intently fixed on the inscription, “Heiress of the Nightshade Group – Xanthea Nightshade.” His tall frame began to tremble, his pupils turning a fiery red, his face ghastly pale against his shocking expression, which made him both unfathomable and dreadful.
Suddenly, a terrifying, guttural laugh broke from his throat, sending chills down her spine,
Why did he look so maddened? Why did his laughter sound so heartbreakingly hopeless?
she could ponder further, a shocking scene unfolded. The man got down his knees and began to dig at her grave
you insane?! Stop it! What are you doing? Why are you digging up my grave? Do I even
but as
“Mr. Lockwood! Mr. Lockwood!”
the car, grasping at his arm pleadingly, “Mr. Lockwood, please stop; Ms. Nightshade’s already
“Get away!”
blazing, terrifying both the assistant and
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not dead.
those words, his knuckles bleeding as they mixed with the dirt, yet unaware of the pain, like a soulless
trying to recall any past entanglement she might have had
tactics that had propelled the Lockwood
remembered once, as a child, he had tried to give her a doll to cozy up to her, which she not only rejected but also stomped into the dirt,
The only connection they might have had was through the news she heard. about his pursuit of Miranda Moore, her stepsister, the very one who had h ooked up Xanthea’s
with
with
much as glanced at him when you were alive; why torment him now in
stared at her tombstone,
now, it seemed
corner of her eye, she saw Orion actually unearth her coffin using just his hands. Just as she was relieved that her coffin, made of durable mahogany, was too sturdy for him
had given her for her birthd How did it end up
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