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Introduction
My name is Evelyn. In my third year working at the morgue, I unzipped body bag J-47 and found my sister who had been missing for three days—her chest cavity surgically hollowed out, heart and magic-infused ribs completely gone.
My hands shaking, I checked my phone. A text from my billionaire fiancé Tristan: "Babe, don't forget tomorrow's engagement dinner. Heard about Lily's accident? Already arranged lawyers to handle it."
I almost laughed. For three months, this Ivy League heir kissed my forehead every night, whispering how much he loved me. Yet yesterday, he personally supervised a live heart extraction—to save his dying white moonlight, he strapped my sister to an operating table and carved out her heart while she was fully conscious.
Using my witch bloodline, I accessed Lily's final memories. I saw her desperate eyes, heard Tristan coldly command: "Careful with the goods."
At the fraternity engagement party, Tristan announced a five-million-dollar settlement for the "tragic accident." The lawyer handed me documents—NDAs, death certificates, and a forged organ donation form with my signature.
I looked across the table. The previously dying heiress Chloe was elegantly cutting steak, her cheeks flushed with unnatural health. My sister's heart beat strong in her chest.
"Sign it, Evie," Tristan stroked my hand. "Life must go on."
I tore up every contract.
"You think money buys lives?" I slashed my palm, blood igniting the shredded papers. "Tonight, learn about real equivalent exchange."
Only then did Tristan realize he wasn't marrying some ordinary morgue intern, but the last heir of the First Witch bloodline.
He activated the fraternity's witch-hunting trap—silver chains, exorcism arrays, and my most trusted friend Mark driving a consecrated nail into my back.
But when the ancient seal shattered, when the primordial witch power awakened, I systematically ripped out the hearts of every fraternity brother, letting them experience my sister's final agony.
Facing annihilation, Tristan fell to his knees weeping: "You're the one I've always loved!"
I smiled coldly, opening the crematorium pit beneath the floor: "Want to chase your wife? Here's a real crematorium."
My hands shaking, I checked my phone. A text from my billionaire fiancé Tristan: "Babe, don't forget tomorrow's engagement dinner. Heard about Lily's accident? Already arranged lawyers to handle it."
I almost laughed. For three months, this Ivy League heir kissed my forehead every night, whispering how much he loved me. Yet yesterday, he personally supervised a live heart extraction—to save his dying white moonlight, he strapped my sister to an operating table and carved out her heart while she was fully conscious.
Using my witch bloodline, I accessed Lily's final memories. I saw her desperate eyes, heard Tristan coldly command: "Careful with the goods."
At the fraternity engagement party, Tristan announced a five-million-dollar settlement for the "tragic accident." The lawyer handed me documents—NDAs, death certificates, and a forged organ donation form with my signature.
I looked across the table. The previously dying heiress Chloe was elegantly cutting steak, her cheeks flushed with unnatural health. My sister's heart beat strong in her chest.
"Sign it, Evie," Tristan stroked my hand. "Life must go on."
I tore up every contract.
"You think money buys lives?" I slashed my palm, blood igniting the shredded papers. "Tonight, learn about real equivalent exchange."
Only then did Tristan realize he wasn't marrying some ordinary morgue intern, but the last heir of the First Witch bloodline.
He activated the fraternity's witch-hunting trap—silver chains, exorcism arrays, and my most trusted friend Mark driving a consecrated nail into my back.
But when the ancient seal shattered, when the primordial witch power awakened, I systematically ripped out the hearts of every fraternity brother, letting them experience my sister's final agony.
Facing annihilation, Tristan fell to his knees weeping: "You're the one I've always loved!"
I smiled coldly, opening the crematorium pit beneath the floor: "Want to chase your wife? Here's a real crematorium."
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leon
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Last Updated: 07/03/2026 00:20#1 Chapter 1
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About Author
leon
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