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?
scene unfolded. The man got down his
are you doing? Why are you digging up my grave? Do
furious and frantic, snarling around him, but as a
“Mr. Lockwood! Mr. Lockwood!”
from the car, grasping at his arm pleadingly,
“Get away!”
violently, his eyes blazing, terrifying both the assistant and Xanthea,
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dead. She’s not
those words, his knuckles bleeding as they mixed with the dirt, yet
couldn’t help but cry, and Xanthea was stunned, trying to recall any past entanglement she might have had
known for his ruthless tactics that had propelled the Lockwood Group to the top. She
give her a doll to cozy up to her, which she not only rejected but also stomped into the dirt, vowing never
distance. The only connection they might have had was through the news she heard. about his pursuit of Miranda Moore, her
did that have to do with her? Why would he
with
at him when you were alive; why torment him now in
her tombstone,
Right now, it seemed like Orion was the one desecrating
hands. Just as she was relieved that her coffin, made of durable mahogany, was too sturdy for him to open,
wasn’t it the one her uncle had given her for her birthd How did it end up
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