Buried Without His Regret Chapter 06
Richard’s voice slid in like a whisper from hell, hitting the exact nerve Frederick couldn’t defend.
“Freddie, I got in touch with someone inside the U.S. Coast Guard. He wants to talk to you.”
The video call connected. A shifty-looking man appeared on the screen, his eyes darting around.
“Mr. Mueller…about Ms. Ortega’s body… Things were chaotic back then. We couldn’t confirm the identity 100 percent. There were…procedural issues.”
Frederick gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
“So she might not be dead. Is that what you’re saying?”
The man gave a vague nod.
Frederick hung up, and the last trace of human grief faded from his face, replaced by something dark and obsessive.
At the same time, back at the Mueller’s residence, Caitlin and Christopher hadn’t slept all night.
“I ran into Marianna today. She asked if I remembered how, years ago, Frederick entered one of Shannon’s paintings into a youth competition and even won a major prize with it,” Caitlin said, confusion lacing her voice.
“Our family name can’t be ruined by a dead woman!” Christopher cut in coldly.
She fell silent.
Early the next morning, a black sedan pulled up outside my family’s run-down house.
Caitlin stepped out, dressed impeccably, her expression tightening as she took in the mess.
Inside, Mom sat on the floor, holding the broken urn, humming a lullaby from my childhood.
When she saw Caitlin, her eyes were still cloudy and unfocused.
Caitlin looked at the unhinged old woman and the mess all over the floor, and for a brief moment, something in her expression wavered.
Right then, Mom’s eyes suddenly cleared for a brief moment.
She recognized Caitlin.
“You… It was the Mueller family…”
Just like a wild animal pushed past its limit, Mom lunged forward and grabbed her sleeve.
“You killed my daughter! Give her back to me!”
Startled, Caitlin stumbled back, letting out a sharp scream. She tore herself free and rushed back to the car in panic.
When she got home, she stormed straight into Frederick’s study.
“Frederick! What is going on with Shannon? Her mother said you’re the one who killed her!”
“Frederick! What is going on with Shannon? Her mother said you’re the one who killed her!”
Frederick slammed a file down in frustration.
“She plagiarized! She had no shame! A woman like that deserved what she got!” he shot back without hesitation, his voice carrying no guilt at all, just blunt, unapologetic contempt.
Meanwhile, in a secluded café, Evangeline sat across from Richard.
“He believes Shannon is still alive now, hiding somewhere and watching him,” Richard said, lifting his coffee with a cunning smile.
A satisfied look spread across Evangeline’s face.
“Perfect. We’ll use this chance to clean out everything from her old studio. I don’t want a single trace left.”
That night, Caitlin sat alone in her room, restless.
She opened her hand.
In her palm lay a small, yellowed pearl button.
It had been torn off her expensive coat earlier when Mom grabbed her.
But she recognized it. It came from a white dress I used to love years ago.
At midnight, the files I scheduled three years ago went live all at once, hitting every corner of the internet like a chain reaction.
The original drafts of “Deep Sea,” along with a complete record of every step of its creation, all stamped with unalterable timestamps, were laid out for everyone to see.
The recording was released along with them.
“Shannon, if you don’t drop the lawsuit, I’ll make sure your crippled brother spends the rest of his life in a hospital bed.”
It was Frederick’s cold and ruthless voice.
The entire internet erupted.