Chapter 141

"Sixth floor..."

Ethan Sullivan's pupils constricted violently. His phone slipped from his fingers.

He sprinted toward the elevator like a madman, only to find it under maintenance.

Without hesitation, he turned and bolted for the emergency stairs.

Apartment 6 in Building 8—that familiar door number he knew by heart.

Andrew Lucas violently shook off William Ferber's grip.

He didn't even grab his suit jacket before chasing after Ethan.

In the hotel lobby, Nicole Capra approached in a pristine white gown, holding a bouquet.

"Andrew, all the guests have arrived," she said with a saccharine smile that froze when she saw his expression.

Andrew brushed past her without slowing.

"Andrew!" Nicole desperately grabbed his sleeve. "Our engagement ceremony is about to begin!"

"Let go." His voice was glacial.

Tears welled in Nicole's eyes. "You can't leave! Today is our—"

"Get lost!" Andrew shoved her aside and stormed out of the hotel.

The Koenigsegg's engine roared like a beast.

Andrew floored the accelerator, the speedometer needle spinning wildly.

Ethan sat in the passenger seat, nails digging bloody crescents into his palms.

A crowd had gathered outside Willow Lane apartments.

Fire truck sirens pierced the sky as thick smoke billowed from a sixth-floor window.

Andrew stood below, gaze locked on that window.

Their little nest—where he'd personally hung those pale blue curtains.

His legs gave out. Only by bracing against the car door did he avoid collapsing.

Ethan moved mechanically, like a dying old man.

Susan's sleeping face before he left haunted him. Regret gnawed at his heart like a venomous snake.

The sixth-floor door was charred beyond recognition.

Neither man could bring themselves to cross that threshold.

A blackened corpse lay under a fire blanket in the living room.

Fire marshals stepped aside wordlessly when they entered.

"This isn't her..." Ethan's trembling hands lifted the sheet—then he staggered back two steps.

Andrew stopped breathing.

The body was unrecognizable—charred skin cracked and peeling like burnt bark.

Her once-soft hair had turned to ash. Her features were a smudge of darkness.

"Susan..." Andrew fell to his knees, fingers hovering above the corpse but unable to touch.

Memories flooded him. Her weak voice on the phone: "Andrew, I'm going to die soon."

What had he said?

"Good. Hope you get reincarnated well."

"What, should I personally send you to your next life?!"

How he wished he could go back and strangle his cruel, stupid self.

But it was too late. His Susan was truly gone—reduced to this charred husk that would never smile, cry, or rage at him again.

Ethan suddenly threw himself onto the corpse, wailing like a child.

"Susan, wake up! I bought your favorite strawberry cake..."

Andrew slowly raised a hand, gently touching that ruined face.

Scalding tears hit the corpse with faint hisses.

In that moment, he finally understood true heartbreak.