The traffic signal at the intersection shifted, and the gathering cluster of vehicles gradually drifted away, vanishing from his view.

"Chloe!" Driven by a sudden surge of panic, he bellowed her name into the open air.

Yet absolutely no response returned to greet his ears.

Chapter 16: The One Who Laughs Last

The ambient cacophony vanished alongside the departing flow of traffic.

Eric stared blankly at the vacant thoroughfare stretching out before him, feeling as though the glimpse of Chloe he had just obtained was nothing more than a trick of his own fractured psyche.

At this precise instant, he felt as though he were truly losing his mind. How could an individual who had already perished possibly return from the dead?

Yet, why had this psychological illusion felt so remarkably authentic?

He slumped back into the driver's seat with a sense of profound exhaustion, slowly navigating his vehicle back toward the neighborhood where her old apartment was located.

Passing a local florist along the route, Eric suddenly recalled how, during their residence at the villa, Chloe had always favored placing fresh botanical arrangements into the vases scattered across the house, claiming it infused the living space with a sense of vitality.

He exited his vehicle and purchased a bundle of small daisies—the exact variety Chloe frequently sought out—before continuing his journey on foot.

Returning to the modest apartment Chloe had inhabited during her youth, Eric located a small glass vase and carefully arranged the purchased blooms within it.

Cradling the vessel in his hands, he stepped into the bedroom, positioning the vase upon the desk adjacent to the window.

Just as he prepared to turn away, his movements arrested sharply. He whirled back around, training a scrutinizing gaze upon the surface.

The framed photograph of Chloe and Zack that had remained permanently displayed upon this desk had vanished entirely!

Eric conducted a meticulous search throughout every drawer and corner of the room, yet the photograph was nowhere to be found. He was absolutely certain that he himself had never removed it from its position.

Furthermore, if a common thief had breached the apartment, it was entirely illogical for them to select a solitary photograph as their target. He conducted a thorough inventory of the space; aside from that specific photograph, absolutely nothing else was missing.

Chloe and Zack had relied entirely upon one another since childhood, possessing no surviving relatives.

Zack had passed away several years ago; Eric had personally witnessed his deceased form with his own eyes. Consequently, only a single logical conclusion remained.

Chloe was not dead!

Indeed, over half a month had elapsed since the tragedy. Even though the villa had experienced a violent explosion, he had not received a single official report confirming that any human remains had been extracted from the debris.

Even under the most intense inferno, a trace of bone fragments should have inevitably remained.

The moment this deduction took root within his consciousness, an immense surge of profound joy erupted within his chest.

This meant that the individual he had glimpsed along the roadside earlier that afternoon was truly, undeniably Chloe!

Driven by this revelation, he pulled out his phone and initiated a call to his assistant: "Initiate an immediate investigation. Track a black supercar that navigated past the main entrance of the corporate headquarters at approximately four o'clock this afternoon."

Terminating the connection, Eric fixed his gaze upon the vase resting on the desk, the corners of his lips instinctively curving upward into a slight smile.

...

A private estate belonging to the Vance family lineage located in the suburbs.

This territory was situated far from the congested center of the city, boasting remarkably fresh air and pristine natural vistas.

The evening sky held no remaining traces of twilight, and the snow continued to drift down from above, blanketing the ground in a thin, immaculate layer of silver-white.

"Chloe, the medical team has confirmed that you have achieved a state of complete recovery. I have been invited to attend a prominent charity gala occurring in three days; I desire for you to accompany me." Inside the grand living room, Julian’s voice resonated with a balanced, gentle cadence.

The woman standing before the expansive floor-to-ceiling window remained transfixed by the outdoor scenery, offering no immediate movement to turn around: "Very well. The senior butler from the household will be escorting me to inspect the foundation tomorrow morning; I can utilize that opportunity to select a couple of evening gowns."

Julian tracked the direction of her gaze, a soft smile gracing his features: "I have already commissioned the preparation of your wardrobe. You ought to try them on shortly to verify the fit."

Only then did the woman turn her form around. That deeply familiar countenance—who could it be if not Chloe herself?

However, after a separation spanning nearly a month, the overall aura she projected and the intensity within her gaze appeared significantly altered.

The gentle, vulnerable disposition she had formerly possessed had vanished without leaving a solitary trace behind. Those dark eyes had turned incredibly deep and unreadable, resembling a pool of stagnant, freezing water—profoundly still and remarkably cold.

Chloe collected her thoughts and walked toward Julian, settling onto the plush sofa within the living room: "Regarding the vehicular incident that claimed my brother's life all those years ago... is it truly impossible to extract any remaining fragments of evidence?"

Julian locked his gaze onto her eyes, letting out a soft sigh before shaking his head: "Lest you forget, it has already been four years since the event transpired. Reopening an investigation at this juncture presents a significant degree of logistical difficulty. However, the thoroughfare situated behind that specific alleyway frequently accommodates a high volume of parked vehicles and foot traffic; it is highly improbable that only a solitary piece of evidence existed."

A sudden wave of intense agony and profound remorse rippled through the absolute stillness of Chloe’s gaze: "The fault lies entirely with me. I was far too foolish, choosing to confront Lyndsey directly with that piece of evidence back then. I should have delivered it straight to the authorities instead!"

At that precise time, she had allowed her intense fury to completely cloud her judgment, failing to consider the broader implications of her actions.

Furthermore, she had never in her wildest dreams imagined that Eric had been fully aware of the truth from the very beginning, choosing to actively assist Lyndsey in concealing her heinous crime.

Seated beside her, Julian gently clasped her hand, offering comfort in a remarkably calm, stabilizing tone: "Chloe, this is absolutely no time to allow yourself to become discouraged. The final curtain has yet to fall, and who can truly predict who will be the one to enjoy the final victory?"

Chapter 17: Mr. Julian

The snow outside continued its silent descent, plunging the entire estate into a state of absolute serenity.

Chloe drew in a deep, stabilizing breath, the memory of the roaring inferno and the violent explosion that had occurred on that fateful day flashing through her mind, causing her heart to tremble with a lingering sense of terror.

On that afternoon, she had come remarkably close to departing this world permanently.

Had the senior butler of the household not executed a covert operation to rescue her from the chamber, she would have been reduced to ash, carrying nothing but a soul saturated with bitter resentment and unavenged injustice.

Fortunately, the late elder Mr. Vance had possessed a profound understanding of Eric's underlying character. Prior to his passing, he had delivered a secret mandate to the family's trusted old butler, instructing him that regardless of what transpired in the future, he must preserve Chloe’s safety at all costs.

Consequently, on the day Lyndsey had forced her into a state of unconsciousness, the old butler had covertly extracted her from the danger zone. Furthermore, in strict accordance with the late elder's final testament, the legal rights to the corporate shares had been transferred entirely to her name.

Indeed, the elder Mr. Vance had established a binding clause within his will: should the three-year marriage agreement fail to reach its conclusion due to Eric betraying or failing Chloe, the ownership of those shares would automatically be funneled into Chloe’s possession.

In addition, the old butler had brought a historical reality to her attention: the sole reason the Vance corporate empire had achieved its current level of prosperity was entirely due to the massive inheritance Chloe’s biological grandfather had bequeathed to the family's matriarch all those decades ago.

Therefore, by all laws of equity, a full half of the Vance fortune inherently belonged to the lineage of her family. Her acceptance of these corporate shares was nothing short of reclaiming what was rightfully hers.

Had her grandfather's inheritance been successfully delivered into her grandmother's hands back then, her family would have never been subjected to such a destitute, tragic existence. Her grandmother would not have languished upon a sickbed for an eternity due to years of relentless hardship, and her parents would not have exhausted their meager resources attempting to sustain her health, ultimately succumbing to illness themselves and leaving Chloe and Zack to navigate the world as vulnerable orphans.