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When He Hated Me the Most, I Died! Novel Cover

When He Hated Me the Most, I Died!

Unable to endure Harris Clark's relentless hatred, she chose to end her life. For years, the billionaire stayed by her side solely to inflict vengeance, convinced she was responsible for his true love's death. Even when presented with her ashes, Harris cruelly discarded them, declaring her memory should be completely erased. Yet, the moment he walked away over her remains, his cold facade shattered. Devastated by the ultimate loss, he wept, desperately begging the funeral home to return her.
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Chapter 3

3

Our marital home was a villa nestled halfway up a mountainside.

When we first got married, I thought he chose this place with its clear mountains and beautiful waters for my health because he knew I was unwell.

It wasn't until I gradually lost touch with the outside world that I realized this was also part of his plan.

After all, I was the most favored youngest daughter of the Madison family, and only by isolating me from the world could Harris's plan be more successful.

His revenge would be all the more meaningful.

I followed Harris inside the villa, entering through the door with him.

There were no servants in the villa, and I did all the housework myself.

He seemed stunned as he changed his shoes, then let out a sneer and quickly put them on.

"Helena, you really died a good death."

I curled my lips in disdain and angrily followed him, stepping on his shadow.

"Harris, you jerk!"

Even in death, he still hated me so much!

Harris opened the refrigerator and poured himself a drink.

As he put the bottle down, he noticed the sticky note on the front of the fridge.

[Honey, I made your favorite milk puffs today. Remember to eat them!]

The date was December 28th, the night before I died.

Harris's eyes darkened, and he crumpled the note, throwing it into the trash.

He didn't even glance at my puffs.

To please him, I had even made the puffs in the shape of hearts.

He used to love them the most, but now he didn't even care.

It seemed that loving the food I made was just another one of his ways to deceive me.