Death of a Love, Birth of a Ghost

My sister Ivanna's son was dying. His leukemia had returned, and he needed a bone marrow transplant immediately.

My husband, Jaimen, didn't hesitate. His cold eyes landed on our five-year-old daughter, Lily, playing in the corner.

"Use Lily's," he said. "Her marrow is a perfect match."

When I refused, he and my own sister pinned me to the floor. They ignored my screams as doctors held down my terrified daughter and performed the extraction.

They took too much. Lily died the next day of cardiac arrest. Then, they had me beaten and dumped my body in a dark alley, leaving me to die alone.

For three years, Jaimen believed I had run away out of spite. He cursed my name, telling everyone I was a venomous woman who had murdered our daughter to get back at him.

Now, Timothy's leukemia is back, and Jaimen has launched a massive, city-wide manhunt. He is threatening to torture my mother to force me out of hiding, vowing to break my legs and make me kneel.

He has no idea his search will lead him to two graves.

And that my ghost is watching his every move, waiting for the moment he finally learns the truth.

Chapter 1

The doctor's words echoed in the sterile white room, a death sentence for my sister Ivanna's son.

"Timothy's leukemia has returned. It's aggressive. He needs a bone marrow transplant immediately."

My husband, Jaimen Cline, didn't hesitate. His eyes, cold and sharp, landed on our five-year-old daughter, Lily, playing in the corner.

"Use Lily's," he said. "Her marrow is a perfect match."

My blood ran cold. "Jaimen, no. We can't. Lily is too young, too fragile."

He ignored me. His focus was entirely on Timothy, the son my sister had with him before we were even married. A son he loved more than anyone.

I stood between him and our daughter. "I won't let you do this."

Jaimen' s face twisted with impatience. He didn't lay a hand on me. He didn't have to.

"Ivanna," he called out, his voice dangerously calm.

My own sister, Ivanna Ware, stepped forward. Her eyes were red from crying, but there was a hard glint in them that terrified me.

"Christeen, please," she begged, but her hands were already reaching for me. "It's for Timothy. It's for my son."

"He's your son, not hers!" I screamed, trying to push her away, trying to shield Lily, who had started to cry.

Ivanna's desperation turned into rage. She grabbed my hair, yanking my head back with brutal force.

"You selfish bitch!" she shrieked. "My son is dying, and you're worried about a little pain?"

Her fist connected with my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs. She slammed my head against the hard tile of the hospital hallway. The world spun, stars exploding behind my eyes. The last thing I saw was Jaimen' s impassive face as he instructed the guards to hold Lily down. The last thing I heard was my daughter' s terrified screams.

They left me bleeding and broken in a dark, wet alley behind the hospital. They thought I was dead. In a way, I was.

That was three years ago.

Now, Timothy's leukemia is back. And Jaimen Cline remembers me.

He stands in the doorway of our old home, the one I fled from that night. It's deserted now, windows boarded up, the garden choked with weeds.

He scoffs, a bitter, ugly sound. "She swore she'd only love me her whole life."

He kicks at a loose floorboard. "I've only been gone for a short while, and she's already moved on. So unfaithful."

Ivanna rushes to his side, her face a mask of panic. She clutches his arm, her knuckles white. "Jaimen, the doctor says Timothy's condition is urgent. We need a bone marrow match immediately."

Her voice breaks. "Now that Christeen and her daughter are gone, what will happen to my Timothy?"

Jaimen's jaw tightens. He turns, his eyes sweeping over the city as if he could will me to appear. He pulls out his phone and barks an order to his assistant.

"Launch a full-scale search. Find Christeen Hahn and her daughter. Use whatever means necessary. I want them here by tomorrow."

He thinks he can drag us back, force my little girl onto that cold table again.

But this time, he'll be disappointed.

This time, his search will lead him nowhere.

Because my daughter and I are already dead.

The search for Christeen Hahn was a massive, city-wide operation, but it yielded nothing. Jaimen Cline grew more frustrated by the hour.

His assistant stood before him, head bowed. "Mr. Cline, we've checked every database, every flight manifest, every bus ticket out of the city for the last three years. There's no trace of them. It's like they vanished."

Jaimen slammed his fist on his mahogany desk, rattling a crystal glass. "Vanished? People don't just vanish! Find them!"

Ivanna sat on the plush leather sofa, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. She had just come from the hospital, her face pale and drawn.

"Jaimen," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I saw Timothy. He's so weak. He called out for his daddy."

She looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tears. "He keeps asking why his aunt won't come to save him. He's just a child. What did he do to deserve this?"

Her performance was flawless, designed to stoke Jaimen's anger and guilt. It worked.

He grabbed his phone and sent a text to my old number, a number that had been disconnected for three years.

"Christeen, I know you can see this. Get back here right now with Lily. If you're not at the hospital by tomorrow morning, I will make your mother wish she was never born."

Silence. No reply.

His rage intensified. He sent another message.

"You dare defy me? Do you think you can hide from me? I will drag you back and subject you to the Cline family's punishment. You will kneel in the ancestral hall and beg for forgiveness."

Ivanna walked over and gently placed a hand on his arm. "Don't be so harsh, Jaimen. Christeen is just scared. She loves Lily, that's all."

She sighed dramatically. "Maybe... maybe we can offer her something. Money? A house? Anything to convince her. I'll get on my knees and beg her if I have to. I'll do anything for Timothy."

Jaimen looked at her, his expression softening slightly at her apparent selflessness. His mind, however, drifted back to that day in the hospital three years ago.

He remembered the look on my face. Pure, raw terror.

"Please, Jaimen, don't," I had begged him, my voice cracking. "The doctors said it's risky. Lily has a congenital heart murmur. It's minor, but a procedure this invasive... it could kill her!"

Jaimen had brushed my concerns aside without a second thought. "The doctor also said her marrow is a 100% match for Timothy. His is a 50% match. It's a simple choice."

"He is not her brother!" I had screamed, my hands clutching his shirt. "You can't sacrifice our daughter for your son with another woman!"

His cold reply still haunted the air around me, a ghost of a sound. "He is my son. That's all that matters."

I remembered the feel of his hand striking my face, the sharp sting that silenced my protests. He had shoved me to the ground. "You have no say in this. I decide what happens to my children."

He had turned to the doctor, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Proceed with the extraction. Take more than you need. I want her to know the pain of having something precious taken from her."

The memory was so vivid, it was as if my ghostly form could feel the ache in my bones again.

Now, sitting in his opulent office, Jaimen ran a hand over his face, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He wasn't grieving for me or Lily. He was angry at the inconvenience.

"That stubborn woman," he muttered to himself. "If she had just listened back then, Timothy wouldn't be suffering like this now."

I floated near the ceiling, a silent, invisible observer. A bitter, soundless laugh escaped me.

He was searching for a living woman to punish, to bend to his will.

He had no idea he was hunting for a ghost.

A frantic knock on the office door startled both Jaimen and Ivanna. Jaimen's assistant burst in, out of breath.

"Mr. Cline! We found something! A lead!"

A sliver of hope cut through the tension in the room. Ivanna jumped to her feet, her hands clasped together as if in prayer.

"Oh, thank God!" she cried, looking at Jaimen with wide, tearful eyes. "I knew Christeen wouldn't be so heartless. I knew it!"

She clutched his arm again. "Jaimen, I promise, once Timothy is better, I'll do anything you want. I'll be your servant, I'll wash your feet, anything to repay you for saving my son."

Jaimen patted her hand, his gaze fixed on his assistant. "Don't worry, Ivanna. I'll protect you. Once I get my hands on that woman, I'll make her pay for everything she's put you through."

His patience was gone. He glared at his assistant.

"Well? Don't just stand there! Where are they? I want them brought here immediately. If they resist, break their legs. I don't care. Just get them here!"

The assistant swallowed hard, his face pale. He seemed to be struggling for words. "Mr. Cline, it's... it's not that simple."

"What's not simple?" Jaimen snapped, his voice a low growl.

"Sir, I..." the assistant stammered.

Jaimen's temper flared. In two long strides, he crossed the room and grabbed the assistant by the collar, slamming him against the wall.

"Are you deaf?" Jaimen roared, his face inches from the terrified man's. "I gave you an order!"

"Don't you dare stand in my way," Jaimen hissed, his grip tightening. "My son's life is on the line. One more word of hesitation, and I'll throw you off this building myself."

The assistant squeezed his eyes shut, terror making him finally speak. The words tumbled out in a choked rush.

"We found your daughter, sir. Lily Cline."

He paused, taking a ragged breath.

"She's dead."

The world seemed to stop. Jaimen's rage froze on his face, replaced by a look of stunned disbelief. He slowly released his assistant's collar.

"What... what did you just say?" he whispered.

Ivanna gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

"It's impossible," Jaimen said, shaking his head. "You're lying. Christeen took her. She's hiding her to spite me." He lunged for the assistant again. "Tell me the truth or I'll kill you!"

The assistant flinched but held his ground, holding up a file folder with trembling hands. "It's all in here, sir. The official documents."

He opened the folder. "Lily Cline. Died three years ago. The day after the bone marrow extraction."

Jaimen stared at the paper as if it were written in a foreign language.

The assistant' s voice was quiet but clear, cutting through the silence. "The official cause of death is listed as cardiac arrest, brought on by complications from a severe bone marrow extraction procedure."