My Killer Was His "I Love You" - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

The moment Grayson turned cold, it was terrifying.
One second, Chloe was his everything—the next, she became the target of his vengeance. Armed with evidence from a drunken informant and my suicide note, Grayson pressed charges against her with a single demand:
"I want her to pay with her life."
Before that, he'd dug into Chloe's so-called kidney failure at the hospital. Turned out, it was all a lie.
"So all these years, you've been playing me!"
Furious, Grayson swore to destroy her. Chloe never imagined the man who'd once loved her unconditionally would now be hell-bent on seeing her behind bars.
Desperate, she snapped.
The night before the trial, she hired thugs to kidnap my son, Jayden. In an abandoned warehouse, she recorded his cries and called Grayson.
"Grayson, I have your son. Drop the charges and marry me, or he'll join that bitch in the ground."
To her shock, Grayson cared. Guilt-ridden over my death, he'd vowed to be a better father. He agreed instantly—dropping the charges, even arranging a lavish wedding.
Chloe let her guard down, dreaming of wealth and status. But as she strutted into the venue in her designer gown, cops swarmed in.
"You tricked me," she spat.
Grayson smirked, tightening the cuffs around her wrists.
"You lied first. Killed my wife. Then kidnapped my son. Sparing your life was mercy—did you really think I'd marry you? Enjoy prison."
Chloe got life behind bars—a living nightmare for a gold-digger.
I assumed Grayson would move on. Date again. Start fresh. All I wanted was for him to love Jayden.
But he didn't.
He rejected every matchmaker, let his company crumble, and holed up in our old villa. Weeds overtook the garden, but he yanked them out himself. Dust coated the furniture, yet he polished each piece, murmuring:
"Mila, did you hate me here? I failed you."
Six months later, he was worse.
He roamed the streets clutching my clothes, begging strangers: "Have you seen my wife? Mila Nelson—she's an angel." People dodged him like he was diseased.
When a psychiatrist diagnosed him with severe mental illness, my parents took Jayden away. I was relieved.
Grayson built me a grander grave, visiting daily with mung bean cakes. Eventually, he'd lie beside it, sleeping there.
Then his company collapsed. Debtors hounded him, so he drowned in liquor—a hollow shell of himself.
Even drunk, he still visited my grave. Until one day… he vanished.
Passersby whispered he'd probably died in some alley.
The End.