He Turned My Love Into a Grave Chapter 15

He Turned My Love Into a Grave Chapter 15

“Elara, over here!”

The man greeted her with a sunlit grin, his handsome face warm and open—the polar opposite of Silas’s frozen demeanor.

Elara smiled and walked toward him. It was the gentlest, most peaceful expression Silas had ever seen on her face.

Jealousy and possessiveness detonated inside his skull. His legs moved before his brain caught up. “Elara!”

He rushed forward, grabbed her, and pulled her against his chest.

Startled, Elara assumed it was some stranger harassing her. She swung her purse at the person behind her.

Then she heard the sharp inhale. The low grunt of pain.

She spun and saw Silas, his arms still locked around her. The metal clasp of her bag had sliced open the bridge of his nose. Blood streamed down his skin and dripped onto his hands.

“Silas, what the hell are you doing?”

Annoyance flashed across her face—but so did a flicker of alarm at the sight of blood. “You’re bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital.”

Minutes later, all three of them were in an exam room. The wound wasn’t deep. The doctor disinfected it and stopped the bleeding.

Elara watched him, her patience fraying. “What do you want, Silas? We’re way past talking.”

He pressed a bandage to his nose and pulled up a video on his phone.

The worst parts were blurred, but it was unmistakable. Familiar faces. Silas’s fists smashing into them. The hands that had touched her—broken by an iron bar. The body parts that had violated her—smashed beyond recognition. Blood everywhere.

She watched for only a few seconds before nausea churned in her stomach.

She covered her mouth. Silas immediately shut off the video and grabbed her fingers, guilt pouring off him in waves. “Elara, you misunderstood what happened.”

“That night, I made you drink with those bastards as punishment. But that was it. Just drinks. I never told them to do… that. They twisted my words. They hurt you. Look—I made them pay. Every single one.”

“If that’s not enough, I can make them disappear forever.”

He kept talking, desperate. Elara slowly pulled her fingers free.

Her expression was calm. Cold.

“None of that changes the fact that I was raped. Can you undo that?”

Silas went silent. He stared at her, despair bleeding into his features.

After a long pause, his voice came out hoarse. “I don’t care about that.”

“But I do. When I think about that night, I remember the look on your face. Cold. The way you sided with Lila. The cruelty. I remember being tossed aside in that room, stepped on like I was nothing, and all I wanted was to drag you straight to hell with me.”

“Silas, do you get that? That night, pinned to the floor, I wanted to die. And I wanted you dead right beside me.”

Her voice was quiet, but every word was ground through clenched teeth, soaked in hatred.

Silas shattered. He didn’t know what to do. He closed his eyes and felt wetness slide down his own face.

“Elara, I know I messed up. Please. Don’t do this. Don’t leave. You’re still my wife. In name, at least.”

She laughed. Cold. Empty. She pulled out her passport and showed him the name printed on it. A stranger’s name. Not Elara Hale.

“Elara Hale died in that car crash. I’m not her.”

“Once a death is confirmed, the marriage dissolves automatically. Besides, our license was fake. You and Lila—you’re the ones who are legally married. Did you think I didn’t know? I’m already free, Silas.”

The words hit him like a severed cable. He plummeted. He hit bottom and kept falling.

She didn’t give him a chance to plead again. She turned and walked away.

He sat on that hospital bed, hollowed out, for a long, long time.

Eventually, muffled sobs and broken sounds of anguish seeped through the room.

His phone rang over and over. He ignored it. Ten minutes later, the door swung open and someone rushed in. “Mr. Voss, you need to take this.”

He took the phone in a daze. A frantic voice crackled through the speaker. “Silas, the company’s in trouble.”