After being assassination thirteen times by my fiance, I finally Chapter 09

After being assassination thirteen times by my fiance, I finally Chapter 09

Three days later. 

I haven’t slept for three days and three nights. 

I spent a billion dollars to buy New York’s most ad- vanced medical research and development center in an attempt to obtain a specific drug for Ivan’s condition. 

I personally put Simon in a federal heavy prison on charges of fraud and forgery, and had him “taken good care of.” 

hired Italy’s top tailor, who worked tirelessly day and night to create a pure white haute cou- ture groom’s suit. I imagined Ivan wearing it, wait- ing for me in the church. 

As dusk fell, clutching that exquisite dress, I stumbled back to the sanatorium like a child eagerly awaiting a gift. 

This time, no one stopped me. 

The entire corridor was deathly silent. 

walked to the door of the ward, and my grand- 

father was sitting on a bench. He looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant. 

“Grandpa, I brought a formal suit…” I forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “Is Ivan feeling any better today? The special medicine will be airlifted over soon.” 

Grandpa didn’t look at me, but said in a hoarse voice, “He left ten minutes ago.” 

“What do you mean… gone?” My mind went blank. 

“He passed away in his sleep. He didn’t suffer too much.” Grandpa placed the silver ash pen- 

dant that I had crushed on the bench. “This is some- thing he always held in his hand. He said he could fi- nally go to see his father, and he would never have to please anyone again.” 

I loosened my grip, and the expensive haute cou- ture dress fell to the dirty ground. 

I smashed open the ward door like a madman. 

The hospital bed had been leveled, and the electrocar diogram monitor had long been turned off. 

Ivan lay there quietly, covered with a white sheet. H face had been cleaned by the nurse, and the wrinkles that had been twisted by pain had finally smoothed out. 

Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, he peared so serene and beautiful. 

However, his whole body was already ice cold. 

“Ivan…Ivan, stop it…” I rushed over and rubbed his hands vigorously, trying to transfer warmth to him. 

My once soft hand was now as stiff as stone. The two fingers I had broken were deformed and twisted be- cause they hadn’t received timely treatment. 

He really died. 

The man who stood in line for three hours in the gain to buy a cake because I was afraid of catch- ing a cold was pushed into an endless abyss by my own hands. 

“ah—!!!” 

I held his cold body tightly, letting out a desperate howl like a dying beast. Tears and snot mingled, staining his hospi- tal gown. 

I’m sorry… but what’s the use of being sorry… please take me away, Ivan… please take me away!” 

I spent the entire night in the ICU, clutching the corps and wailing. No one could pull me away. Anyone who dared to touch me, I would bite like a mad dog. 

finally calmed down when the first rays of sun- light shone into the ward the next morning. 

I filled a cup with warm water and gently wiped his body with a towel, avoiding the glar- ing wounds. 

Then, I clumsily and care- 

fully helped him change into that pure white suit. 

“So handsome.” I gazed at him, gently straighten- ing his bow tie, my eyes filled with a twisted infatuation. 

“Ivan, the first time I saw you, I knew you be- longed to me.” 

“I was just too proud… I thought that killing you woud set me free. But with your death, my soul has been d rained away.” 

I leaned down and pressed my trem- bling lips to his cold, lifeless lips. 

Then, I pulled a Browning pistol from the hid- den pocket of my trench coat. It was the gun I had used a few days earlier to threaten the pharma- deutical representative into handing over the formula for the miracle drug pressed the gun to my temple. 

It’s okay if you don’t want to see me, “I owe you my life, and I’ll repay you. In hell, you can whip me all you want, and I won’t fight back.” 

I pulled the trigger. 

“Bang–!” 

Gunshots shattered the tranquility of the early morning. 

Blood splattered on the pure white dress, like a des- perate yet exquisite red rose. 

THE END