My Beloved Has Risen from Death’s Embrace

Chapter 4

Raven-black eyebrows framed his deep-set, piercing eyes, and his lips and nose. proportioned as if sculpted with meticulous care by a renowned artist. His jawline was perfectly defined.

She had first been utterly stunned by his presence at the cemetery, and up close, he was even more breathtaking. It was hard to imagine anyone in the entertainment industry who could surpass his allure.-

Unfortunately, he always wore a cold expression, and his aura was chilling, almost devil-like. Coupled with the outrageous rumors circulating in the news, it was no wonder people were wary of him.

“Ms. Nightshade, where are you headed?”

Ms. Nightshade? Such a formal address. Weren’t they on a first-name basis at the cemetery?

“Back to my room, thank you.”

Xanthea, worried she might fall, instinctively snuggled closer to him. She felt him pause as if shocked by electric contact. Curious, she looked up just in time to see a faint crescent-shaped scar on the left side of his neck.

That scar looked familiar. Could it be she was the one who left it?

Three years ago, when the Martinez family first made a name for themselves through a collaboration with the Nightshade family in Crestwood, Matthew was cornered by a group of so-called elite heirs. They taunted him, throwing stones and mocking his father for being a social climber, and Matthew as nothing but a lapdog to the Nightshade’s

heiress.

Overhearing this, she had angrily thrown stones back at them. When the leader, a blond punk, charged at her, she raised a sharp-edged stone in defense.

for mercy, but she couldn’t stop the stone in her hand, which heavily struck the neck of a young man, leaving a crescent-shaped wound

away.

man, she couldn’t even remember his face. and name.

out, the person who had helped her

had not only publicly insulted him by calling him “crazy” but

14:55

as a thank you.

regret, Xanthea felt tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted to ask him why, despite all the annoying things

after her supposed death, had he chosen to end his own

insane. Feeling a sting in her nose, Xanthea raised her hand to rub it

for a moment, and then it dawned

was wet, but the party was held in the main hall

struggling in the water, strong arms, a muscular chest, and that protective embrace at the cemetery holding a bouquet of irises toward her grave passed through her

Xanthea about to tug at his shirt, eager to see if there was an iris tattoo underneath, when suddenly

what’re you doing

was

closer, “Just felt

with Matthew to

to be ruined, to experience the despair she had felt

slightly, nodding respectfully to Orion, “Thank you, Mr. Lockwood, for your help. I’ll

“Mr. Lockwood, thank you.”

could finish, Orion had already set her

if