The Man Who Found His Ghost

I faked my death to escape a husband who despised me.

I gave his dying mistress my kidney and my life force just to ensure he' d be safe.

I thought I was finally free, until he showed up at my animal shelter five years later.

Hudson Holland spent a decade making me feel small, culminating in a public humiliation on our tenth anniversary.

He didn't know I had uncovered a plot against his life that only my complete disappearance could stop.

So I vanished.

I left behind a suicide note, a burnt wedding ring in a fiery bus crash, and a healed Adaline by his side.

He was supposed to be happy.

Instead, he spent years hunting for ghosts, consumed by a regret I no longer cared about.

When he finally tracked me down to the coast, I looked him in the eye and told him I' d rather be dead than be his wife again.

I told him to leave and never come back.

But when a violent gang broke into my sanctuary to hurt my animals, Hudson didn't hesitate.

He threw himself in front of a knife to save a scruffy terrier I loved.

Now, the man I swore to hate is bleeding out in my arms.

And I have to decide if I' m going to let him die.

Chapter 1

Jamiya POV:

The world blurred around me, a dizzying kaleidoscope of crystal and silk, but everything snapped into jarring focus the moment his voice, sharp and laced with disdain, cut through the clamor of the Holland Gala. My heart hammered, a frantic bird trapped in my ribs, because I was here again. In this moment. The moment my life shattered the first time.

Hudson Holland stood on the raised platform, his eyes, usually cold and calculating, burning with a raw, public fury that was all directed at me. Tonight was supposed to be the celebration of our tenth anniversary, a corporate spectacle. Instead, it was my public execution.

"A decade," he spat, his voice amplified by the room's hushed awe. "Ten years of a farce. A contract. Not a marriage." He glanced at me, his gaze sweeping over my carefully chosen gown like it was dirt. "Jamiya Morrow. You trapped me in this, just like your grandfather trapped mine."

A collective gasp rippled through the gathered elite. My face burned. He never held back. Not when it came to me. The shame was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest. It felt exactly like it had the first time. The crushing certainty that I was nothing more than a burden, a chain around his neck.

I gripped the edge of the champagne flute so tightly my knuckles ached. This was it. The Holland Gala. The exact night, ten years ago, when he had publicly humiliated me, solidifying my place as the unwanted tether to his empire. But this time, something was different. This time, I knew the cost of staying. I knew the corporate plot, the intricate web of deceit I'd uncovered through whispers in my family's old network. The one that threatened his life if our marriage remained.

My breath hitched. The prophetic dream was a corporate plot now. The Moon Goddess's decree, the grandfathers' wills. It all amounted to the same thing: a loveless prison for me, and a death sentence for him.

Grandfather Morrow, frail but still commanding, stepped forward, his hand raised. "Hudson, control yourself. This union was decreed for the good of both families, for the stability of Holland Enterprises."

Hudson scoffed, a dark, humorless sound. "Stability? It' s a gilded cage, Grandfather. And I despise the bars, and the one who chose to lock me in." His eyes, hard and unforgiving, found mine again. "I will never love you, Jamiya. Never."

Whispers erupted around us, a venomous hum. I saw Adaline Byers, his childhood sweetheart and business partner, standing near the edge of the crowd, her gaze fixed on Hudson with a fragile longing. She looked paler than usual, her illness already taking its toll, though none knew its full extent yet. They called her the "dark magic backlash" in my memories, but here, she was just a woman slowly fading.

Tonight, I was going to break the cycle. I wouldn't be the meek, heartbroken wife who swallowed every insult. I wouldn't watch him die because of a fate I could change.

A calm I hadn't known I possessed settled over me. It felt cold, surgical. My voice, when it came, was steady, shocking even myself.

"You're right, Hudson."

His cruel smirk faltered. The room fell silent.

"This marriage," I continued, each word a stone dropping into a still pond, "was a mistake. A transactional obligation." I straightened, my spine stiff, my chin lifted. "And I'm tired of playing my part."

His eyes narrowed, confusion warring with his anger. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about a divorce."

The words hung in the air, a physical shockwave. Gasps, louder this time, filled the vacuum. Hudson stared at me, his jaw slack. He looked genuinely stunned, as if he'd never considered I would be the one to end it.

"A divorce?" he finally managed, a sneer returning to his lips. "And what makes you think you can just walk away from a contract like this, Jamiya? From Holland Enterprises?"

"I'm not just walking away," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I'm offering you a clean break. The Severing Ceremony, as you might call it. I will initiate the divorce proceedings immediately. And as for Holland Enterprises..." I paused, my gaze sweeping past Hudson to Adaline, then back to the powerful men in the room. "I will sign over all my shares, my entire stake, to Adaline Byers."

The room erupted. This was unprecedented. My family's shares, a substantial portion of Holland Enterprises, gifted to Adaline? It was the "Alliance Blessing" in plain sight, ensuring the company's stability, removing my perceived threat.

Hudson's face was a mask of disbelief. "You... you can't be serious. Give away your inheritance? To her?"

"It's not an inheritance I ever wanted," I replied, the bitterness seeping through my calm facade. "And it's not a debt I intend to carry any longer." I looked at Adaline, whose eyes were wide with shock, a glimmer of something I couldn't quite decipher-perhaps pity, perhaps triumph. "This is my way of settling all debts, Hudson. To you, to her, to the Holland legacy."

The murmurs grew louder, a buzzing hive of speculation. This was not the timid Jamiya Morrow they knew.

"You think this is a game?" Hudson growled, stepping closer, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you can just waltz in here, destroy everything, and skip off into the sunset?"

"I think I'm giving you what you've always wanted," I retorted, my voice unwavering even as my stomach tied itself in knots. "Freedom. And I'm giving Adaline the security she needs. You get to keep your 'business partner' close, without the inconvenience of a wife you despise."

His eyes flashed, a flicker of something unreadable there before it was replaced by cold anger. "You're delusional."

"Perhaps," I conceded, a thin, mirthless smile touching my lips. "But I'm also done." I saw the flicker of the corporate assassination plot in my mind, the vision of Hudson's inevitable downfall if I remained tied to him. This was the only way to break the chain, for both of us.

Grandfather Holland, recovering from the shock, cleared his throat. "A divorce of this magnitude, Jamiya, requires considerable legal preparation. It won't happen overnight."

"I understand, Grandfather," I said, my gaze still fixed on Hudson. "But the intent is clear. I want out."

Hudson stared at me for another long moment, then turned abruptly. "Fine. Do what you want. You always do." He strode towards the exit, his expensive suit a dark blur against the glittering crowd. He didn't look back.

My hand instinctively reached out, a phantom longing for connection I immediately recoiled from. But a different thought sparked. A final, unexpected request.

"Hudson!" I called out, my voice cutting through the suddenly quiet room.

He paused at the double doors, his back stiff. He didn't turn.

"There's something else," I said, my heart thumping. "The stray dog, the one with the limp, that sometimes wanders near the east wing of the estate. No one ever seems to feed it. Could... could you just make sure someone looks after it? Just for a little while?"

Silence. The request was so out of place, so mundane, so un-corporate. He finally turned his head slightly, just enough for me to see the confusion etched on his profile. It was a fleeting moment, a crack in his usual facade.

"A dog?" he asked, his voice flat.

"Yes. A small thing. My last request."

He held my gaze for a moment longer, a strange flicker in his eyes-pity? Annoyance? I couldn't tell. Then, with a curt nod that could have meant anything, he disappeared through the doors.

I watched him go, a profound sense of finality washing over me. Dr. Gates, the Holland family's private physician, a kind-faced man with perpetually weary eyes, approached me, a gentle hand on my arm. He had always been a quiet observer, but I knew he saw more than he let on.

"You still love him, don't you, Jamiya?" he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. His wisdom, like a shaman's, felt rooted in observation, not magic.

I looked at him, then back at the empty doorway. "Loving him was a luxury I could not afford. Now, it's a burden I refuse to carry." The words were true, yet they felt like a lie in my throat. The ache in my chest was real. But so was the clarity.

Dr. Gates sighed. "They will be pleased. Everyone wants this resolved quickly. Even Adaline."

He handed me a slim leather folder. "The preliminary documents for the severance. And a few other… arrangements, if you decide to proceed with your other plans." His eyes held a knowing glint. He knew about the kidney, about my desperation to truly disappear.

I took the folder, my fingers brushing against the cool leather. Around me, the whispers started again, dissecting my audacity, my foolishness.

"She always was too soft-hearted."

"Giving away her fortune? What a fool."

"Good riddance. Hudson never deserved her anyway, but she was clinging on too long."

The words stung, but they no longer pierced. I walked away from the glittering assembly, the chatter fading into a dull roar. Back in my lavish suite, I locked the door, the silence an almost physical presence. I tore off the constraining gown, tossing it aside like a discarded skin. My body ached, but my mind was clear.

I opened the folder. Inside were the divorce papers, and nestled beneath them, discreetly marked, were the forms for anonymous organ donation. The Life Source ritual. It was the only way to truly sever all ties, to ensure Adaline's survival, and by extension, Hudson's. A final, anonymous act of grace to pay off a debt I never owed.

My reflection stared back at me from the ornate mirror. A stranger with haunted eyes. "Jamiya Morrow," I whispered, touching the cool glass. "This is it. Your last act of sacrifice. Your first act of freedom."

I would save them. All of them. And then I would disappear. For good. I began to pack a small bag, a worn leather satchel I hadn't touched in years. A few essentials, enough cash to get by. No one would ever find me. This was my escape. My real chance at a rebirth.

My hand grazed the small, almost unnoticeable scar just above my hip-a tiny, physical reminder of a past accident. It felt like a premonition. Soon, there would be another. A deeper one. A final one.

"Goodbye, Jamiya Holland," I murmured, my voice breaking on the name. "Hello, anonymity."