Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 189

Chapter 189

“Your life isn’t worth much if you break that promise, my mother replied with ice-cold precision.

Julian actually flinched.

I took a shaky breath. “Okay. We’ll try

The words hung in the air between us like a bridge I wasn’t sure would hold my weight.

Julian’s arm tightened around me, and I felt him suppress a sharp intake of breath as the movement pulled at his bandaged wounds. His jaw clenched briefly -whether from pain or emotion, I couldn’t tell-but his hold on me never wavered. For the first time in months, it didn’t feel like a cage. It felt like shelter.

Please don’t make me regret this.

Catherine: POV

Death, as it turned out, was surprisingly easy to fake when you had the right connections.

I sat in the dingy motel room in Newark, staring at the newspaper clipping spread across the stained bedspread: Vanderbilt Heiress Dies in Custody – Apparent

Suicide by Overdose.

The photo they’d used was from my debutante ball five years ago, all innocent smiles and pearls. The article detailed how Catherine Vanderbilt, distraught over criminal charges and her family’s financial ruin, had managed to obtain prescription pills and ended her life in her cell at 3:47 AM.

Perfect.

The call from Julian’s lawyer had come this morning, just hours after he made his decision. The plan was in motion. Julian’s people were surprisingly efficient once I’d laid out exactly what Victoria had done.

A few strategic conversations with the right prison officials, a medical examiner who owed Sterling Conglomerate several favors, and suddenly Catherine

Vanderbilt was officially deceased.

The body in the morgue belonged to a Jane Doe who’d died of an overdose the same night-similar height, similar build, similar enough age that a cursory

୮ examination wouldn’t raise questions.

My family’s lawyer had already arranged a private cremation “per the family’s wishes. No open casket. No viewing. Just ashes and a death certificate.

Meanwhile, I walked out of a service entrance wearing a guard’s uniform, with a new passport in my purse and a very specific plan for revenge.

The disposable phones were lined up on the nightstand like soldiers. Seven of them, purchased with cash from different convenience stores across three states. Each one registered to a different fake identity, each one completely untraceable.

I picked up the first phone and dialed Victoria’s private number-the one she only gave to her inner circle.

She answered on the third ring, her voice cautious. “Hello?”

I said nothing. Just let the silence stretch, heavy and uncomfortable.

172

1:30 pm

Chapter 189

PPM

“Helly? Who is this?”

I could hear the edge of irritation creeping into her tone. Good. Let her feel off-balance.

After thirty seconds, I hung up.

The second call came an hour later, from a different phone.

This time, when she answered, I played a recording I’d prepared: the sound of a music box playing Chopin’s Funeral March, tinny and distorted, before

cutting off abruptly.

“What the hell-”

Click.

The third call was at 2 AM. I knew she’d be asleep, knew the sudden ring would jolt her awake with her heart pounding.

“Stop calling me, she hissed into the phone.

I let out a low, breathy laugh-nothing that could be identified as my voice, just an unsettling sound in the darkness.

“I’m calling the police-”

“Go ahead,” I whispered, my voice so distorted through the voice modulator that it sounded like something from a nightmare. “Tell them a dead woman is

calling you.”

I heard her sharp intake of breath.

“That’s right, Victoria. I know you saw the news. I know you think you’re safe/now that Catherine Vanderbilt is gone.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “But you should know better than anyone… the dead don’t always stay buried.”

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