Loved You Once But He's My Forever (Chloe)

I was terrified to wake up.

I was afraid that when I regained consciousness, I would once again become a spirit, watching my body being torn apart.

I also feared that I might not have any consciousness at all, unable to even take one last look at Carter, still not having had the chance to say goodbye.

Before regaining full awareness, searing pain overwhelmed me.

The moment I felt the pain, I was strangely relieved; if I could still feel pain, it meant I was alive, not just a wandering soul.

As long as I was alive, I still had a chance.

My head and body ached from the impacts, each part of me throbbing.

The images from before I lost consciousness resurfaced the sight of Zoey being discarded to the green belt, Harlan crawling toward her. She should be okay, right? What about Whitney? Was her heart okay?

I suddenly opened my eyes, and only then did I realize my current situation.

Whitney was not far from me, still unconscious.

I scanned the surroundings. We were locked in a water prison, but fortunately, the water level wasn't too high-just a shallow layer that hadn't even covered my feet. The ground was damp. The room was dark and musty, with only a small, square iron window.

Outside, it was pitch black; it had already turned night.

I listened carefully, hearing the sound of waves from afar.

I had a suspicion in my heart-was this the island that Yael once brought me to?

If the Carlyns were seeking revenge, they would definitely bring us to their burial ground.

Whitney's huge fish-tail wedding dress spread out on the ground, with diamonds scattered all over, glinting coldly in the darkness.

She was already slender and pale, resembling a stranded mermaid. Her entire form exuded a sense of fragility-beautiful, yet heartbreaking.

The dagger was scattered in the car.

I looked down and saw that the silver necklace around my neck was still there.

As long as the island didn't block signals, Carter would be able to detect my presence!

I propped myself up on the damp ground and struggled to stand up.

Thankfully, all my limbs were intact; I hadn't lost any arms or legs.novelbin

It seemed like only superficial injuries-some cuts from the broken glass, which explained the pain.

My head was spinning, and I felt a slight urge to vomit, likely from a mild concussion.

I staggered, taking slow, unsteady steps through the water, heading toward Whitney.

Whitney, you must survive.

As I got closer, I used the dim light outside to examine Whitney carefully.

She didn't have any obvious injuries, except for some cuts on the back of her hand from the glass.

Thankfully, they were just small wounds.

Although things had reached their worst, the current situation was the best possible outcome in the worst case.

I gently touched her face and hoarsely whispered, "Whitney, are you okay?"

"Chloe..."

I finally breathed a sigh of relief as I heard her faint voice.

"How are you? Does your heart hurt?"

She slowly opened her eyes. "Chloe, I'm fine. You've been protecting me all this time."

Some things are hard to explain. Whitney had once undergone a heart transplant. The heart had a strong rejection reaction after surgery, but since she started using my heart, the compatibility between her body and the heart had gradually improved over the past six months, with no rejection symptoms at all. In fact, her health had gotten better.

This was probably the most valuable thing I did before I died at least I protected my sister.

"Whitney, have you been here before?"

She had spent many years with Taylor, knowing the Carlyns better than I did.

"I have," she said, her expression suddenly changing in the next moment. "Mom and Dad!" Whitney grabbed my hand. "Chloe, something's wrong. Mom and Dad are in danger."

Even without her saying it, I had already suspected this. The enemy had gone to such great lengths to gather all of the Sanders together through Taylor, clearly intending to exact revenge.

The reason Whitney and I hadn't died was that I had already died once, and Whitney had suffered for 20 years.

But the Sanders were different. Even though Josh and some of the sons were not very capable, they had lived a comfortable life under Grandma's protection for half their lives.

They lived a life of ease and privilege, as if it were their natural right.

The enemy's hatred toward them was undoubtedly deeper than the one they held for Whitney and me.

And while they hadn't harmed Whitney and me yet, it wasn't just because of our family ties, like Taylor's deep love for Whitney.

After all, he was still part of the Carlyns and might care about his feelings.

The Sander family members had become the focal point of all their fury.

In contrast

with you Whitney's worry and

anxiety, my response was starkly different. "Sorry, I can't empathize with you on this. As for the fate of the Sanders, what matters more to me is you." I tried to lift her

up. "How's your body? Can you move?"

"Chloe, I'm fine, but Mom and Dad... They're going to die."

From a dark corner came a deep, male voice, its age unclear.

"Shouldn't they die?"

His voice was soft, devoid of any emotion-neither joy, anger, nor sorrow.

I turned to look and only then saw the man in the corner.

He was dressed in all black, and I couldn't tell how long he had been standing there. He had no presence, like a living corpse.

Instinctively, I stepped in front of Whitney, shielding her. "Of course, they should die. I have no ties to the Sanders anymore. But what do you want with me? Dominic?"

The man let out a soft laugh, and his voice was surprisingly pleasant, sounding nothing like that of a man in his 50s.

"Chloe, you're truly clever."

"I should have guessed it. You're not dead. Not only are you not dead, but you're also playing cosplay, switching from a paranoid husband to a humble bodyguard. Are you enjoying yourself?"

From Yael's words, I learned that

their father deeply loved Amber, but Amber was a stubborn woman. Her domineering nature didn't work on her, and no matter how many years Dominic tried, he couldn't win her heart.

In an attempt to draw a clear line with him, she even grew distant from her son, unwilling to let herself be morally bound by him.

So, Dominic orchestrated his "death" as an accident, even adopting a new identity to stay by her side, slowly making her fall in love with him.

What a freak!

He had never given up on targeting the Sanders-he was the true mastermind behind everything!

For revenge, for love, he remained unwavering until the end!

After hearing my words, he chuckled softly, stepping out of the darkness.

He took off his face mask and the hood of his jacket, letting his soft, slightly curly hair fall behind his ears.

His face was pale, but handsome enough to make him seem much younger than his 50s!

Perhaps it was due to the drugs from their organization, but Amber also looked much younger.

If judged solely by appearances, he could be mistaken for an elegant, handsome prince. His face was gentle and non-threatening, and his aura was warm and refined.

Who would have imagined that this seemingly gentle man had orchestrated such a grand scheme?

He didn't kill Whitney for his son.

He didn't kill me for Amber.

He was the truly evil devil, stepping slowly toward us.

Dominic's lips curled into an elegant smile. "Chloe, have you ever heard the saying, 'Too clever a woman doesn't live long'? Want to experience death again?"