Burnt by His Lies, Born as a Supermodel (P2)

Burnt by His Lies, Born as a Supermodel (P1)

Burnt by His Lies, Born as a Supermodel (P2)

The towering flames turned the daytime sky into a scene of burning clouds. The scorching fire devoured the entire villa, and the air was filled with the smell of burning.

Countless firefighters in orange uniforms and medical staff in white coats were bustling about.

The servants sat collapsed on the ground, each filthy and shaking, their faces written with fear and helplessness.

The butler, with his face covered in soot, ran out from the crowd. "Sir, you're finally back!"

Ethan lost all reason, grabbing the butler's collar, his voice hoarse and urgent, "Where's Riley? Where is she?"

The butler panicked, quickly pointing to the blackened villa behind him, explaining incoherently, "We… we followed your orders and didn't open the door for Madam. Until the pounding on the door could no longer be heard, we thought Madam had tired herself out.

But not long after, smoke started coming through the door cracks. That's when I realized something was wrong. When we opened the door, the fire burst out and the entire room was red with fire. It was too late to extinguish it…"

"And…"

He paused, his voice getting lower and lower, stammering, unwilling to continue.

Ethan's heart rate drastically increased, an ominous feeling suddenly enveloping him. He stared at the butler, his voice hoarse,

"And what?"

Just as the words left his mouth, a violent explosion suddenly rang out.

"BOOM!"

The windows blew out.

Black smoke rolled up in a red mushroom cloud, shooting straight out from my room.

Countless glass fragments and charred debris scattered outward.

Ethan watched this scene with his own eyes, his blood seeming to freeze instantly. His voice trembled, almost squeezed out from his throat,

"No, it can't be… Riley wouldn't leave me. She can't be dead…"

Wild-eyed, he tried to rush into the inferno but was firmly held back by the butler. "Sir, calm down! Going in now means certain death!"

"The firefighters have already checked. In Madam's room, someone had secretly placed more than a dozen gasoline barrels. Another explosion could happen at any moment!"

Ethan's eyes were bloodshot, his entire body swaying.

Gasoline barrels?!

Why would there be gasoline barrels in Riley's room?

He seemed to finally remember that when he entered my room earlier, he had vaguely smelled something strange, but because all his attention was on Chloe, he had deliberately ignored it.

Belated pain and regret swept through his body. He fell to his knees powerlessly. For the first time in his life, he profoundly experienced what despair truly meant.

My mother, arriving shortly after, was thunderstruck when she saw the villa burned to a crisp, standing frozen in place.

She frantically grabbed a firefighter, her voice trembling, "Where's my daughter? She's the mistress of this villa. Has she been rescued? She's in poor health, such a big fire must have frightened her terribly. I need to take care of her… Quickly, tell me, where is she?"

The firefighter, feeling sorry for her, finally sighed heavily, "Ma'am, I'm sorry… the fire started from Miss Hayes's room, and many gasoline barrels were found in her room. There have been multiple explosions. I'm afraid…"

"You're talking nonsense!" My mother's eyes were red, and as soon as she opened her mouth, tears broke down uncontrollably, "My daughter is alive and well. Today is her wedding day. We all agreed that I would personally host her wedding. She's so obedient and sensible, how could she bear to make me sad?"

She breathed heavily, and seeing the firefighter hanging his head in silence, she turned to find Ethan, heedlessly pounding her fists on him.

"It's all your fault! Why did you lock Riley in the room? She had already been burned like that, and fire was what she feared most. How could she possibly set a fire again? Give Riley back to me, give my daughter back to me!"

Ethan was like a walking corpse, numbly allowing himself to be pushed and hit.

Many people ran over to stop her. My mother cried her heart out, finally fainting from extreme emotions.

Ethan raised his head heavily, his gaze falling on the raging fire not far away.

It was only at this moment that he finally realized.

Ever since I was rescued from the fire, even the weak flame of a lighter would trigger my anxiety.

How could someone like me possibly set a fire again?

Moreover, those gasoline barrels in the room, how could they have been placed by me?

It was at this time that a firefighter approached, holding a dirty recorder in his hand, giving it to him, "Mr. Spencer, this was found in your wife's room, placed at the bedside. I guess she must have left you a message in her final moments. See if you can still hear it."

Ethan hurriedly took it, thanking him repeatedly.

He pressed the play button, and the voice from the recorder instantly drained all strength from his body.

—-

The voice from the recorder, word by word, was like a sharp blade, piercing deeply into Ethan's heart.

Their conversation outside the operating room.

And their discussion outside my hospital room about feeding me psychiatric drugs, letting reporters tear apart my dignity at Chloe's celebration.

The final segment was from just before my death: Chloe in my room, setting the fire, taunting me, and framing me.

The recorder's voice abruptly stopped, and he clutched it tightly, his heart wrenching, his breathing becoming rapid and heavy.

So, Riley had known everything all along.

While enduring the pain of being burned by the fierce fire, he had still cut fatal wound after wound into her heart.

That tranquility beneath her sadness and helplessness wasn't because she had learned to be magnanimous, but because her heart had completely died.

That was the girl he had loved for over ten years, promised to never part from for life.

Twice pushed into the fire by him, how much pain and despair she must have felt.

What had he done?

In an instant, Ethan felt as if someone had shattered his spine. He doubled over in pain, curling into a ball, as if trying to escape this unbearable reality.

Night fell, and the fire was finally extinguished.

The air was filled with a charred smell, acrid and heavy.

The firefighters searched the entire villa, and at last, regretfully handed over a diamond ring, covered in ashes.

Ethan took the ring with trembling hands, his gaze vacant, as if he had lost all vitality.

Just then, his assistant hurriedly arrived, holding a thick stack of investigation documents, hesitating before saying, "Mr. Spencer, you should prepare yourself mentally."

Before Ethan could take them, my mother snatched the documents first. She eagerly flipped through them, her face gradually turning pale, her fingers trembling so much that she could barely hold the papers.

All the truths of how I had been bullied by Chloe over the years, and the secrets Chloe had hidden for years, were finally laid bare before them.

Chloe's biological parents were both human traffickers who died in a car crash while trying to escape arrest.

Chloe recognized the arresting officer as my father and staged being bullied and nearly trafficked into prostitution. My father, soft-hearted, ultimately adopted her.

But she was a viper that had been lying in wait. During my father's undercover mission, she deliberately shouted on the street that my father was a police officer, causing him to be shot dead by criminals.

Afterward, she played innocent, turning the blame on me, saying I was vain and wanted to brag about having a police officer father, deliberately instigating her to do so.

Since then, although my mother never said it, she harbored resentment towards me in her heart.

During the time she had leukemia, I secretly donated blood and bone marrow to her, while Chloe stole the compensation money my father had earned with his life.

Later, learning that my mother had recovered and I was to marry Ethan Spencer, the CEO of Spencer Corp, Chloe returned home claiming she had depression and didn't want to burden us.

Whenever no one was looking,

I was pushed down stairs.

My wrist was suddenly slashed with sharp scissors in the middle of the night.

Even a vase falling from above nearly took my life.

For years, everyone believed Chloe's words without a doubt, while labeling me as vain and selfish. They naturally favored Chloe, and if I showed the slightest emotion, I would be accused of being vicious and narrow-minded, ultimately subjected to endless cold violence.

Not only that, but Chloe's depression was also fake.

Behind the scenes, she bullied others, slept around, and had even trafficked over a dozen children and young women.

Those truths I had explained time and again, yet was met with cold eyes, finally hit them like bullets from a gun.

My mother cried until she nearly fainted, collapsing to her knees, "My daughter… Mom was wrong… Mom is so sorry…"

Ethan rose unsteadily, carefully wiped the ring clean with his sleeve, placed it gently in his pocket, and then calmly instructed his assistant to take my mother home. Then, he called Chloe.

The next day, news of Chloe being burned to death in the suburbs topped the trending searches.

When the police arrived, there was only a charred, deformed body.

—–

According to the forensic investigation, before Chloe died, she was doused in gasoline. When she was burned down to her last breath, a fire extinguisher was used to put out the flames.

After a while, she was doused with gasoline again and set on fire.

This was repeated more than ten times before she was finally burned to death.

Rather than saying she was burned to death, it would be more accurate to say she was tortured to death by pain.

While several nurses were discussing this news with relish, I was lying on the operating table, undergoing my sixth skin graft surgery.

My professor stood beside me, concern and worry in his eyes, "Are you afraid?"

I shook my head, my voice calm, "No."

Having survived the fires twice, there was nothing left that could frighten me.

On the day of the wedding fire, if my professor hadn't seen the news and worried about me, flying back from abroad overnight…

I would now be a charred corpse.

My professor looked at me with pride, his tone encouraging, "Riley, you're my proudest student. I look forward to your brilliance at the International Supermodel Competition in six months."

Under the doctor's tireless treatment, six months later, I finally stood on the supermodel runway again.

I didn't disappoint my professor. When I held the championship trophy on the award podium, it felt like all the stars in the world were shining for me.

Faced with countless flowers and applause, I wept with joy.

Just when I thought Ethan and I would remain strangers for life, he appeared unexpectedly.

After leaving the runway, I said goodbye to the last competitor who congratulated me on my victory.

Turning around, I saw Ethan standing in the night, wrapped in the cold wind.

He was unshaven, haggard, awkwardly looking at me with a placating smile.

"Riley, I've come to take you home." He said softly, his voice hoarse.

He pulled out the diamond ring I had deliberately left in the fire, carefully presenting it to me,

"Look, I still have the ring. Let's go back and have a new wedding—a bigger, more magnificent one. We'll have it by the seaside, your favorite place. What do you say?"

His eyes were full of deep feeling, as if he had moved even himself.

I laughed coldly, my tone full of sarcasm, "If you had any conscience or shame left, you wouldn't dare suggest marriage to me again."

I raised my hand, gently stroking my scarred face, my voice cold, "Do you know how many skin grafts surgeries I've had on this face and body?"

"Eighteen times. Each time the knife scraped against my skin, I reminded myself once: all of this was thanks to you."

Ethan's body trembled slightly, tears of remorse falling to the ground, his voice choked, "Riley, I know I deserve death. I don't ask for your forgiveness, just a chance to make amends, please?"

I looked at him coldly, my tone resolute, "Leave my world and never let me see you again. That's the best amends you can make."

After a long silence, Ethan's shoulders finally slumped. He laughed bitterly at himself, "You're right. As I am now, I don't deserve to stand beside you. Don't worry, I won't bother you again."

Half a month after Ethan left, I received news from home.

My mother had committed suicide by taking pills.

When she was found, she was tightly holding a childhood photograph of me.

I sent a large sum of money to the best funeral home, instructing them to handle my mother's affairs properly.

As for Ethan, he voluntarily went to the police station to confess, admitting to setting me on fire and later burning Chloe to death.

In the end, he was sentenced to death with a two-year reprieve.

Two years later, I received a letter and a huge inheritance delivered by a lawyer.

Without even looking at it, I tore the letter to pieces and threw it in the trash.

Then I donated the inheritance to the International Disabled Charity Association.

In the years that followed, my life rose like the morning sun, brilliant as the stars and moon.

Those past pains and betrayals were long behind me. The path ahead, I would walk alone, radiating glory.

End