Chapter 2

The murmurs around us died down instantly.

Everyone in the firm knew that Serena, the ice queen partner, had lost her husband three years ago. It was a tragedy no one dared to bring up.

But the girl didn’t back down. She quickly reached into her designer bag, pulled out a stack of photos, and threw them at my feet.

The pictures scattered across the floor.

I looked down, and my pupils dilated instantly.

The photos showed a man and a woman in very intimate poses.

I knew that man's face all too well.

Julian.

My husband, who had been dead for three years.

In the photos, his skin was darker than I remembered, and there were more wrinkles around his eyes. But that smirk, and the way he held her—I would recognize him even if he were burned to ashes.

What the girl said next made my blood run cold.

"He has a birthmark on his lower back. It's shaped like a ragged line. It turns a dark crimson when he gets flushed, right?"

My hand trembled, almost spilling my iced Americano.

The stares from the crowd felt like needles piercing my skin.

"Wait, Serena’s husband... isn't dead?"

"Faking his death? Insurance fraud? Or..."

Whispers flooded my ears.

I took a deep breath, pushed up my gold-rimmed glasses, and forced down the raging storm in my chest.

I bent over and picked up one of the photos.

I dug my fingernail hard into Julian’s face in the photo, almost tearing the paper.

Then, I looked up and gave her a chilling smile.

"Are you sure this baby is my husband's?"

The girl puffed out her chest, looking stubborn. "Julian told me that as soon as you sign the divorce papers, he’ll marry me!"

"Julian?" I repeated the name slowly. "Julian Miller?"

"Yes! Julian Miller!"

I nodded, took out my phone, and dialed a number right in front of everyone.

"911? I’d like to report a disturbance."

"There is a woman harassing people at my office entrance, and I suspect she's trying to extort me."

"Yes, she claims she’s pregnant with the child of my husband, who died three years ago. I suspect she’s either a grave robber or an escaped mental patient."

I hung up and looked at the girl, whose face had gone completely pale.

"Since you say he's the father, that works out perfectly," I said calmly.

"My husband’s cremains are in the columbarium Uptown. Do you want to go there now for a DNA test, or should I hire someone to exhume his body to confront you?"

The girl took two steps back in terror. But the look in her eyes wasn't guilt.

Instead, it was... pity?

"Serena, stop lying to yourself. Julian is alive."

"He said if you agree to sign the divorce agreement, he’ll meet you."

She showed me an address on her phone.

At that moment, I felt like all the blood in my body was rushing backward.

Alive?

Then what was that funeral where I cried my eyes out? What was my three years of mourning?

I didn't even realize how I got into the elevator.

Security was holding the girl back outside, and she was still screaming.

I pressed the button for the basement level. It was a shortcut to the quiet coffee shop next door.

I am a lawyer. I rely on evidence and logic.

The dead do not rise. Unless... he never died in the first place.

Three years ago, Julian went on a business trip to upstate New York. He was reportedly caught in a massive landslide, and his car went over a cliff.

The police only found a crushed car, fire damage, and some unidentifiable remains.

DNA testing was difficult back then, but his personal belongings and the license plate all matched.

I received a box of cremains and a massive life insurance payout.

Five million dollars.

At that time, I had just been made partner. I was incredibly busy, and his death was a devastating blow. I even took a six-month leave of absence.

And now, she was telling me he was alive?

The elevator doors opened with a ding.

The coffee shop was tucked in a quiet corner, dimly lit.

I saw that familiar back immediately.

He was sitting by the window, wearing a dusty gray jacket. His hair was longer than before, messy and unstyled.

He held a cigarette, looking down at his phone.

The way he smoked, the slight slouch in his shoulders...

My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant fist. It hurt so bad I could barely breathe.

I softened my steps and walked over, inch by inch.

As I got closer, his silhouette became clearer.

When I stood right behind him, I smelled that cheap, harsh tobacco.

I used to tell him to buy better cigarettes, but he always said he preferred this throat-burning stuff.

"Julian."

I called out.

He slowly turned his head.

Our eyes met.

It was indeed Julian.

But he was darker and thinner than three years ago. The gentle, warm smile in his eyes was gone, replaced by a sneaky, greasy look.

Seeing me, he showed no joy, no guilt.

He just frowned and crushed his cigarette butt into his half-finished black coffee.

"You're here?"

His tone was as casual as if he were asking me what we should have for dinner.

*SLAP!*

I raised my hand and slapped him with everything I had.

The crisp sound echoed through the quiet coffee shop.

Julian’s head snapped to the side, and a trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He was stunned for a second, then his face turned red with anger. He stood up abruptly. "Serena! Are you out of your mind?!"

"Am I out of my mind?"

I laughed coldly, though tears were desperately welling up in my eyes.

"Julian, you’ve been dead for three years. I spent three years grieving you, and I took care of your parents. I even buried your father last year!"

"And now you show up alive?"

"If you were alive, why didn't you come back? Why did you send a pregnant girl to make a scene at my law firm?"

"Are you trying to ruin my reputation, or are you trying to kill me?"

Julian rubbed his cheek, his eyes darkening.

"Serena, I didn't come back because I was in deep debt. I didn't want the loan sharks to come after you."

"I'm back now because Chloe is pregnant. I need to marry her and give my child a proper name."

"Let's make this easy. Sign the divorce papers, and... you need to return that five-million-dollar insurance payout to me."

"I exchanged my life for that money. Now that I'm alive, that money belongs to me."

I was so angry I laughed out loud.

So that was it.

It wasn't a miracle. It was a scam.

He faked his death to escape his debts and steal insurance money.

Now that the heat was off, or maybe because he had spent all his cash, he wanted to come back and claim the payout.

And he wanted to bring his mistress and his bastard child to step on my face to climb back up.

Looking at the man in front of me, I felt a terrifying wave of disgust.

This was the man I loved for seven years?

This was the "late husband" I wept for during lonely nights?

"Julian," I wiped the tear from the corner of my eye, my gaze turning completely cold. "Did you forget what I do for a living?"

"I'm a lawyer."

"Faking your death for insurance is major grand larceny and insurance fraud. With five million dollars, you’re looking at ten years minimum."

"You're also committing bigamy, which is another crime."

"And now, you're extorting me. That's blackmail."

"You want that five million? Sure."

I took a step forward, staring straight into his eyes.

"Go get it in federal prison."

Julian’s expression changed. He clearly didn't expect me to be this ruthless.

Suddenly, his attitude flipped. He fell to his knees with a thud, grabbing my legs.

"Baby! Serena! I was wrong! I had no choice!"

"I spent all my money on gambling debts! If I didn't pay them, they were going to kill me!"

"Chloe... Chloe is innocent. Please don't sue me, I beg you!"

The other customers in the coffee shop were all staring.

The man who had been so arrogant a second ago was now begging like a stray dog.

I looked down at him. The very last drop of affection I had for him evaporated completely.