He Ruined My Funeral, I Smashed His Tomb

Chapter 3

Over the past two years, my mother had passed away as well.

Meanwhile, I had been handling enormous sums of money for other people in the financial markets.

Because of those trades, I had made a lot of enemies.

Quite a few of them wanted me dead.

To protect myself, I had decided long ago to leave the stock market for good.

The trade I completed that morning was the last one I had agreed to handle for someone else.

Not long before that, I had already donated most of the assets under my name to a welfare home.

I used all the money I had left to buy this flower shop.

So now, with the shop destroyed, I suddenly realized that I had nowhere else to go.

The pain inside my body rapidly spread again.

My limbs hurt. Every part of my body hurt.

I didn't even have the strength to keep moving.

So I simply sat amid the wreckage.

The rain kept falling on me through the night.

I didn't bother to move out of it.

In just one night, almost every newspaper and media outlet in Washington, D.C. was running the same headline.

"Lawson Family Heir Returns Home to Take Revenge on Former Lover."

It wasn't until dawn was approaching that I finally prepared to leave.

But before I did, I kept searching through the rubble.

Just then, Damian appeared again. I had no idea when he had arrived.

With just one hand, he pulled me up from the ground.

"It's just some rundown flower shop. There wasn't anything valuable in here anyway. Is it really worth searching like this?"

I slapped his hand away.

Once I had steadied myself, I raised my hand and slapped him three times in a row.

"My parents' memorial photos and ashes were in here. Do you think that was worth it?"

He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

Those slaps had already drawn a little blood there.

But he suddenly raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Really? Three slaps in exchange for your parents' photos and ashes. Sounds like I still came out ahead."

I ignored him.

I simply lowered my head and continued searching through the rubble in front of me.

Damian stood behind me.

He kept deliberately saying cruel things.

He was trying to make me angry.

"Evelyn. I'm talking to you."

I pretended not to hear him.

I kept searching.

Suddenly, I spotted a small piece of a picture frame.

I immediately perked up.

I quickly pulled it out of the debris.

But all the glass covering the frame had shattered.

The broken glass had also left countless scratches across the photograph inside.

I carefully took the photo out of the frame.

Then I tucked it safely against my chest.

As for the urns containing my parents' ashes, I couldn't even find where they had shattered.

Their ashes had probably already mixed with the muddy water and debris.

There was no way to gather them again.

I had no choice but to give up.

Then I stood and prepared to leave.

Behind me, Damian suddenly shouted my name.

"Evelyn!"

I didn't turn around.

I kept walking.

Damian quickly caught up with me.

He stepped in front of me and blocked my path.

"Stop pretending you don't care about anything! Look at yourself. Your face is white as a sheet. How much longer are you going to keep acting tough?"

I looked up at him.

"It's just an old condition acting up again. That's why I look a little weak."

I forced a smile that held no emotion.

"Damian. You don't seriously think you still have the power to affect my emotions, do you?"

But deep down, I knew exactly why Damian had come back this time.

He had come specifically to make trouble for me.

If I were still as healthy as I used to be, I wouldn't have minded continuing our fight.

I could even have given him another taste of what it felt like to get hurt.

But now, just standing there was already taking nearly all the strength I had.

Later, I went to the hospital.

The strong smell of disinfectant filled the air.

Several doctors held my test results in their hands.

They exchanged glances.

Every one of them looked grave.

One of the doctors asked, "How much of the medication we prescribed last time have you taken?"

"All of it."

"All of it?!"

Derek Reed suddenly raised his voice.

"That was a two-month supply! It's only been three days!"

Derek had been treating me for a long time.

Now, as he looked at me, it was obvious he had a lot he wanted to say, but he didn't know where to begin.

The moment I saw his expression, I understood.

My condition had probably deteriorated severely.

Maybe I really didn't have much time left.

Derek hesitated before asking carefully, "What about your family?"

I looked at him calmly.

"Dr. Reed, did you forget? My father died a long time ago. My mother is gone too. It's just me now."

Derek fell silent for a moment.

In the end, he sighed.

"Your condition was under pretty good control for the past few years. Why has it suddenly gotten so much worse over the last three days...?"

I didn't answer.

My eyes fell on my phone screen.

An entertainment news alert happened to pop up automatically.

In the photo, Damian had his arm around Mia while they were out on a date.

The picture was crystal clear.

I had always thought I stopped caring about Damian a long time ago.

But only now did I realize that the man I thought I had already let go of could still cause me immense pain.

Damian was like a knife that had always been hidden somewhere in my life.

Even without actually taking a blade to me, he could always strike exactly where it hurt the most.

Derek continued, "Your condition is very serious now. Once you stop taking the medication, you could be in danger at any time over the next three days, the next week, or even the next two months."

With that, he handed me a new bottle of pills.

"Take this for now. When the pain gets bad, take three pills. Remember. No more than three—"

Before he could finish, I had already opened the bottle.

I poured a large handful of pills into my palm and shoved them all into my mouth.

Then I swallowed them without any water.

I no longer cared how many I had taken.

As long as they could temporarily suppress the pain buried deep inside my body, that was enough.

Three days.

Two months.

To me now, there really wasn't much difference.