He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 180

He had been strung along by Lyla like a mindless puppet, stumbling step by step into his own absolute ruin.

He hadn't just destroyed his own family; he had murdered his own child.

"Heh..."

A broken, choked laugh tore from Grant's throat.

A monstrous wave of grief and regret smashed into him like a bursting dam, bringing him to his knees without warning.

Grant bolted up and slammed his fist into the solid desk.

"Bang!"

The deafening crack echoed through the empty room.

His knuckles instantly split, dark red blood seeping from the wounds, yet he felt absolutely no pain.

Compared to the agonizing sensation of a jagged blade sawing through his heart, this superficial flesh wound meant nothing.

"Pull up the footage from before Lyla arrived... No, pull up every single archived recording from the day Sienna and I got married!"

He needed to see for himself exactly what he had been entirely blind to for the past eight years.

Before him was footage from six months ago. Grant's finger hovered over the control panel. He hesitated for a moment before randomly clicking on a specific day's recording.

The screens flickered to life. The timestamp read six in the morning.

The sky was still dark, the view outside a hazy, slate-gray dawn. Before the birds had even begun to sing, the footage showed Sienna already working in the kitchen.

Sienna was dressed in simple loungewear, the beige cotton fabric hanging loosely off her frame. Her hair was casually pinned up, a few stray strands framing her neck.

She expertly pulled ingredients from the fridge, starting to prepare his breakfast. Her movements were incredibly gentle, as if terrified of waking anyone else sleeping in the house.

Grant's throat inexplicably tightened as a bitter ache surged in his chest.

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