Chapter 3

I turned and walked off the stage, crisp and decisive.

My silence firmly hooked Julian Sterling’s sanity.

And the real show had only just begun.

After the launch event, I gave him a full three days to spiral.

For those three days, the name “Blair Thorne” and her almost insane debut were the talk of the entire city’s elite.

And the real lunatic, Julian Sterling, mobilized every connection he had, practically turning the city upside down to find me.

But “Blair Thorne” seemed to have sprung from thin air, with no past, no traces.

His punches landed in empty space, only fueling his deeper anxiety.

Meanwhile, my second grand gift to him was quietly “blooming” in that lavish crystal villa.

Seraphina was completely locked away by him.

My private investigator told me that the best dermatologists in the city were sent to the villa, one after another, only to leave, one after another, at their wit’s end.

The rashes were like a curse rooted in her flesh and blood; they didn’t subside but intensified.

The catalyst in ‘Heart Ablaze’ specifically targeted the immune rejection of allogeneic transplanted skin.

Medically, it’s called an “Accelerated Chronic Rejection Serum.”

My little gift to Seraphina? She’d never get rid of it.

Just as Julian Sterling’s patience and sanity were stretched to their limits.

On the evening of the fourth day, I sent him a text: “Want answers? Meet me at our old spot.”

Our old spot was the ruins of the burnt-down suspended art gallery.

Three years ago, our love was buried there.

Today, I would bury him there.

The ruins were littered with broken steel beams, and the charred walls still bore the marks of the inferno from back then.

Julian Sterling’s steps faltered slightly. He stopped about five meters in front of me, scrutinizing me warily.

He hoarsely repeated the question from three days ago, but his tone now carried a hint of despair:

“Who are you, really? Why are you hurting Seraphina?”

I chuckled softly. “Hurting? Mr. Sterling, that’s an interesting way to put it. I merely let her experience firsthand what ‘rejection’ feels like.”

“What are you talking about?!”

“Don’t you, of all people, understand medicine? Don’t you know what the biggest risk of allogeneic transplantation is?”

“It’s rejection, Julian Sterling.”

His pupils constricted sharply. “You…”

“What, did something click?” I took a step towards him, radiating the chill of hell. “Those things you said to the surgeon on the operating table three years ago, do you remember them?”

Julian Sterling’s face completely lost its color.

He trembled, taking a step back, as if he’d seen a ghost. “No… impossible, Stella is dead, I saw her with my own eyes…”

“You saw her what?” I stood directly in front of him, slowly raising my hand. “Saw her burn to death? Or saw her flayed alive?”

I lifted my hand, and my veil slipped.

A face emerged, a tapestry of charred and newly formed flesh, crisscrossed with scars, like shattered porcelain forcibly reassembled.

Some areas were newly pink, tender flesh, others were permanently carbonized, a disturbing yet shattered beauty.

Julian Sterling froze.

His eyes were wide, his Adam’s apple bobbed, his lips trembled, but no sound escaped him, as if his soul had been ripped from his body.

“Well?” I gently caressed my disfigured cheek, my movements as tender as if I were touching a priceless artifact.

“Between that perfect ‘Moonlight Skin’ and my ‘Shattered Porcelain’ reborn from fire, which one do you prefer?”

I pointed towards the distant crystal villa, a cruel smile on my face. “One is my unique work of art; the other is a rotting fake.”

“Mr. Sterling, the great collector, which do you choose?”