His Destructive, Toxic Love

Dillon quickened his pace when he spotted Caroline leaving the graveyard. "Ms. Caroline," he greeted with respect.

"Go keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't do anything foolish," Caroline said, her voice carrying a faint sigh as she shook her head slightly.

Dillon bowed and replied solemnly, "Don't worry. I'll take good care of Mr. Casper."

He turned and walked briskly into the graveyard, stopping a few meters away from Casper to silently offer his company. Snowflakes drifted down, blanketing the cemetery in white. The cold air was heavy, filled with an overwhelming sense of desolation. Casper remained on his knees, unmoving, his eyes locked on the photo on the tombstone. Dillon wanted to offer some comfort, but his feet stayed rooted to the spot.

It wasn't just repentance Casper felt it was regret that he no longer had the chance to make things right.

The snowfall gradually stopped, becoming a piercing cold rain drumming against the ground. Dillon quietly opened his umbrella and moved closer, his voice gentle. "Mr. Casper, it's starting to rain. Maybe we should head back?"

He tilted the umbrella to shield Casper from the rain. Casper's hunched shoulders tightened slightly, acknowledging Dillon's words before he slowly stood up. He remained silent, his steps aimless.

Even after getting into the car, he didn't say a word.

"Mr. Casper, should we go home or to the office?" Dillon asked carefully, adding, "Your father is waiting for you at the office..."

"Let him wait," Casper replied, his voice cold and soft. "Let's go home."

"Yes, sir," Dillon immediately signaled to the driver.

The car pulled away slowly, leaving a scene heavy with silence and sorrow.

Back at the Welton residence, the quiet felt even more oppressive. Marian met them at the door, offering slippers and taking Casper's damp coat. Her eyes were filled with tears, "Sir, has the lady... been laid to rest?"

BUMS

Dillon shook his head at Marian, signaling her not to ask further questions. Marian cried softly before heading to the kitchen.

Soon, she returned with two

steaming cups of coffee, placing them gently on the table. The rich

aroma filled the room, bringing net

small measure of warmth. But

She

Marian didn't leave right away. stood there, hesitating, as if she had

something to say.

Dillon noticed and frowned slightly. "Marian, there's nothing more for you to do here. You should rest. Mr. Casper needs some time alone." Marian's lips moved, her fingers nervously twisting her apron, her knuckles turning white. "Sir, I..."

"Marian, if you have something to say, say it now. Mr. Casper is very tired today."

Dillon's message was clear-Casper had no energy for anything trivial. Anything that wasn't urgent could wait.

Marian suddenly dropped to her knees in front of Casper.

Casper lifted his weary, sorrowful eyes to look at her. "Marian, what are you doing?"

"I... I feel so bad for Mrs. Welton," Marian stammered, slapping herself twice. "I need to tell you... that

embroidery screen, it wasn't Mrs.

Welton who ruined it. It was Met

Nova. She was the one who

е

damaged it. And when Ms. Nova was stabbed, she did it to herself. It wasn't the Mrs. Welton. ffwasn't

her..."