He Watched Me Die Twice Chapter 01
I died as Chicago’s most notorious female drug baron—taking a bullet to the head during a police raid.
When the news broke, the internet practically threw a party.
People even crowdfunded a billboard in Logan Square just to loop my black-and-white memorial portrait.
They hated me, and for good reason. I’d flooded the city with drugs and torn countless families apart.
Worse, I’d leaked the tactical routes, which led to the deaths of thirteen DEA agents—men who had once served alongside my ex-husband, DEA Captain Jonathan Arnold.
Over a million people signed a petition demanding that my ashes be mixed into the floor tiles of public restrooms.
To quell the overwhelming public outrage, Jonathan launched a “memory trial.” He was going to livestream the memories of my criminal life for the whole world to see.
On the day of the trial, Logan Square was packed shoulder-to-shoulder.
“Women like her deserve a slow, painful death,” someone muttered. “She destroyed so many families with the poison she pushed.”
“I heard she was ruthless enough to exploit toddlers,” another chimed in. “Zero human empathy.”
“She got a lot of good DEA agents killed. Today, I just want to watch her finally face the music.”
Face set like stone, Jonathan pressed the start button.
The crowd erupted, screaming for me to burn in hell.
But the next second, the giant screen flashed an image of me in a police uniform, solemnly taking an oath beneath the American flag.
A dead, heavy silence dropped over the square.
***
Then, the whispers started, swelling into a wave of confusion.
“That’s impossible. Brianna? A cop?”
“It’s gotta be fake. A criminal like her doesn’t belong in a uniform.”
Jonathan’s face darkened. Furious, he barked at the technicians to check if the memory feed had been tampered with.
My younger sister, Martha Davy, sidled up to him and gently took his arm.
Her voice was soft and hesitant. “Jonah, she had to have set this up before she died.
“You know how good she was at playing the victim.
“Let’s just cut the broadcast. I’m worried you might start feeling sorry for her.”
Jonathan pulled Martha into his arms, scoffing.
His eyes brimmed with disgust. “I’ve had enough of Brianna’s tricks.
“Putting on a police uniform—or dressing up like an angel, for that matter—doesn’t change the fact that she put my teammates in the ground.”
He looked down at Martha, his tone softening instantly. “Don’t be silly. You’re the only person I love right now. Nothing is going to change my mind.”
Looking reassured, Martha leaned her head against his chest.
A few people in the crowd recognized her and started murmuring.
“Hey, isn’t that the youngest Davy girl?”
“Yeah, that’s her. The one who turned her own father in. I heard she even donated her inheritance to the anti-drug fund. What a kind-hearted girl.”
“Exactly. And then you look at her sister, Brianna. The second their old man got arrested, she went straight to work for that drug lord, Damian Felton.”
“One chose justice, the other chose crime. It’s a shame Brianna couldn’t be more like her sister.”
Up on the stage, the lead technician finished the diagnostic and gave Jonathan a grim nod.
The memory feed was entirely authentic.
Jonathan’s pupils contracted in shock. Taking a deep, ragged breath, he hit play again.
My soul hovered above, watching the raw hatred burning in his eyes.
Seeing the same eyes that once looked at me with tenderness now filled with cold disgust tore through my chest—even in death.
The giant screen flickered, shifting to a dark, late-night alley.
A much younger Jonathan had just fought off a handful of thugs to stop a mugging.
He was leaning hard against a brick wall, panting heavily, a fresh cut bleeding on his lip.
On the screen, I came running over with a first-aid kit and crouched in front of him.
The dim, yellow glow of the streetlights stretched our intertwined shadows long across the pavement.
I sat on the curb, awkwardly dabbing at his wound with a cotton swab.
He winced, sucking in a sharp breath as the antiseptic stung.
“Why do you always have to play the hero?” I muttered, rubbing the ointment in. “Does it hurt?”
He suddenly grabbed my wrist and looked straight into my eyes. “As long as you’re here, it doesn’t.”
My ears burned as I looked away. “Stop trying to sweet-talk me.”
Smiling, he pulled me into his arms. “If you don’t want me getting hurt, then don’t let go. Stay by my side from now on.”
Tears pricked my eyes.
Without a word, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips softly to his.
The video paused on our smiling faces.
In the present, Jonathan clenched his fists, a brief flash of sorrow crossing his eyes.
Martha noticed his distraction and chimed in, her voice dripping with forced pity.
“Jonah, Brianna looked so innocent back then.
“It’s a shame she couldn’t resist the temptation of money.
“Maybe she only got close to you to gather information anyway.”
The sorrow instantly vanished from Jonathan’s eyes, replaced by deep aversion.
He turned to Martha, his tone softening. “You’re right.
“If she hadn’t betrayed me, I never would’ve realized who actually deserves my love.”
He gripped her hand tightly.
It was as if he needed to—to everyone watching, and to the frozen memory on the screen—that he had finally found true happiness.