He Buried Me But I Painted My Own Resurrection novel Chapter 207

The file was thick, documenting the long years of a woman's life.

It tracked her journey from a seventeen-year-old artistic prodigy to the discarded wife of the Gauthier family.

From dazzling the world with a paintbrush to playing house and fading into the background.

The early pages were painfully cliché—a brilliant woman blinded by love, willingly surrendering her identity and eventually being reduced to a mere accessory in her marriage.

Cillian skimmed through it with profound boredom, casually flipping to the very last few pages.

His eyes locked onto Sienna's movements during the month leading up to her "death."

She had finalized her divorce with Grant Gauthier, walking away with absolutely nothing—not a single dime of the Gauthier fortune.

She had moved out of Gauthier Manor and made frequent, secretive trips to the hospital.

Reading between the lines, Cillian let out a knowing chuckle.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the desk, his eyes dark with amusement.

"Lucas Lowery..."

He murmured the name under his breath.

The two of them had orchestrated a masterful theatrical performance, successfully fooling the entire city.

"Fascinating. Truly fascinating."

Cillian laughed aloud, the sound edged with the thrill of an impending challenge.

He had initially pegged Sienna as just a clever, resourceful woman. He never imagined she could manipulate a notoriously arrogant man like Lucas Lowery into pulling off something this massive for her.

His obsession with this woman was rapidly growing.

"Boss," his subordinate interrupted cautiously. "Since Ms. Sawyer faked her death, should we..."

"There's no rush."

Cillian waved a hand dismissively.

"She went through all this trouble to stage this little play; she obviously has a master plan. If we drag her out into the open now, it would ruin all the fun."

He stood up and walked over to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the glittering city lights below.

His subordinate looked confused. "So we do nothing?"

"Who said we're doing nothing?" Cillian turned back, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. "If she wants to destroy Grant Gauthier, Lucas Lowery alone isn't enough firepower."

"We are going to do her a little favor."

The subordinate blinked. "A favor?"

Cillian's eyes drifted to a corporate profile of The Gauthier Group sitting on his desk, his gaze lingering purposefully on the word 'Heir.'

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