Vanished After the Crash, Kneel of the CEO Chapter 06

Vanished After the Crash, Kneel of the CEO Chapter 06

That evening, Joshua called Samuel at his Imperial City hotel with his conclusion, I was the real power behind “Ghost.” 

Within hours, they’d tracked me down to this remote seaside cottage. 

The next morning, I was watering the flowers in the garden. 

Samuel appeared at the garden gate and stopped dead, like he was afraid to come any closer. 

We stared at each other across the fence. 

His eyes were bloodshot. Eight months had turned him into a walking corpse. Seeing me alive, his face 

showed raw terror that I might vanish and desperate relief that I was real. 

I wasn’t surprised. I set down the watering can, “Joshua’s sharper than I gave him credit for.” 

“Victoria…” he whispered my name like a prayer. 

My voice was ice, “Mr. Harris, please leave. That sweet, obedient Victoria died in the crash. I’m Ghost now.” 

I stared at him with dead eyes, “I faked my death to get away from you. Push me again, and next time I 

vanish, you’ll never find me.” 

Samuel went white, his hands shaking as he stepped closer. 

“Punish me however you want. Hate me. Destroy everything I’ve built. Whatever makes you feel better. Just don’t leave me again. I can’t survive without you.” 

I looked away and laughed bitterly, “Can’t survive? You have Grace and those twins the family adores. Your perfect little family.” 

“The day you ‘died,‘ I threw Grace out of the city. 

Haven’t seen her or the kids since. We’re done- 

completely done!” he said desperately. 

He dropped to his knees in the dirt, ruining his expensive suit, “Everything that happened was my fault. Just give me a chance to fix this.” 

I stared down at him, “I don’t want your guilt or your apologies. I want my peace back. Leave.” 

But he didn’t leave. 

Over the following months, he bought the house next door. Started doing his own cooking and cleaning. 

Every morning, fresh flowers appeared at my door. On rainy days, I’d spot him waiting with an umbrella along my usual path, never getting too close. When I skipped meals, warm food would appear on my doorstep. 

No matter how I ignored him or dumped his food in the trash right in front of him, he never snapped. The next day, he’d be back. 

I was sick of this pathetic routine. 

One evening after working late, I found Samuel in my kitchen again, wearing an apron, pulling something hot from the oven. 

I grabbed the plate and dumped it in the trash without a word. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop this?” 

Samuel flinched but forced a smile, “Maybe too much salt… I’ll go easier tomorrow.” 

I looked at him, “What’s it going to take to make you leave?” 

His eyes were hollow but determined, “You can tell me to leave a thousand times. I’m not going anywhere.” 

I gave up and went to bed. 

Winter arrived, marking a full year. 

The anniversary of losing my baby. 

I dressed in black and picked up white flowers. 

I walked to the small cemetery I’d made on the cliff overlooking the sea. 

I’d built it my first week here. The small headstone bore only a date–the day I lost everything. 

No body lay beneath, just the ashes of old love letters. 

I’d felt you moving inside me, dreamed of holding you. But your father was too busy with someone else to want you. 

I knelt and pressed my palm to the cold stone, tears falling freely, “I’m here, baby. I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you.” 

Samuel, who’d been shadowing me from a distance, went rigid. 

That date–right in the middle of those seven days he’d spent with Grace. 

The memories hit him like a freight train. Coming home to find me pale and weak in bed. He’d believed the lie about hurting my leg. 

It hadn’t been an injury–it was recovery from losing our child. 

While I was bleeding out our baby, he’d been playing house with his mistress. 

He’d abandoned me when I needed him most. 

Samuel clamped his hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, the weight of what he’d done crushing him. He finally understood the true depth of his betrayal.