Chapter 129 Rest in Peace
The wedding car driver barely survived with his life, but what came after made him wish he hadn't. He'd escaped death only to face David's brutal beatings. For days, police came to question him repeatedly.
After the accident was officially ruled as such, he finally got some peace in his hospital bed. But then one night, Lucas showed up and brought him back to Maple Estate.
Zachary interrogated him personally.
"Why did the brakes fail?"
He cornered the driver, demanding a real answer. The man was terrified, dropping to his knees and begging for mercy.
"I already told you everything! I don't know what happened with the brakes. Mr. Brown's people provided the car—I just drove it. I checked before we left and everything was fine. I never thought something like that would happen on the road."
Everyone said it was an accident. Only Zachary refused to believe it. He kicked the driver to the ground and grabbed him by the throat.
"Tell the truth!"
The driver was crying so hard he could barely speak. "I am... I am telling the truth! You can kill me and I'll say the same thing. I'm just a driver—I almost died too!"
"Are you sure it was her in the car the whole time?" Zachary pressed.
The driver nodded frantically. "I swear, from start to finish, Ms. Elikin never got out."
But Zachary caught something. "Then why did you stop for a full minute at the East Street intersection?"
He'd studied the footage carefully. There was no traffic light at that location, and it wasn't rush hour. There was no reason for the car to stop there that long. Sixty seconds. A lot could happen in sixty seconds.
His eyes bore into the driver like daggers.
"Ms. Elikin got a call. She started arguing with someone and told me to pull over."
Before the driver could finish, Zachary's hand tightened around his throat.
"You're lying."
Quinley was emotionally stable. She didn't get into arguments.
That night, Zachary tried every method to extract the truth, but the man stuck to his story until he passed out.
"Mr. Jennings, please stop. You can't keep doing this. Ms. Elikin is gone. You need to accept it." Lucas tried to reason with him, but Zachary snapped.
"I told you—she's not dead."
The night before Quinley's cremation, Zachary went to the funeral home. She lay peacefully in a crystal casket, looking like she was only sleeping.
Zachary stood there, studying the figure in the casket coldly. Not a trace of grief on his face. Lucas's heart ached, his eyes reddening.
"Ms. Elikin, Mr. Jennings and I came to see you. Rest in peace."
Zachary shot him a look. "That's not Quinley."
He said it with complete certainty.
Lucas figured grief had pushed Zachary into denial—that he simply couldn't accept Quinley's death yet. So when Zachary said these things, Lucas didn't read too much into it.
But what came next left Lucas completely dumbfounded.
The next morning, Quinley's ashes were interred at the Brown family cemetery. Lucas bought a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums, assuming Zachary would want to see her off one last time.
But when he suggested it, Zachary refused coldly.
"I'm not going. That's not her."
And he didn't go. Actually didn't show up.
Lucas figured Zachary was just afraid of the memories, so he went in his place. He arrived early and ran into David at the cemetery.
"Why didn't Zachary come himself?" David wore all black, hands shoved in his pockets, looking smug.
"Mr. Jennings had something he couldn't get out of."
David's expression darkened. "What could possibly be more important than Quinny's burial?"
A twisted idea came to him. He had his people detain Lucas at the cemetery.
"Zachary, you've got thirty minutes to get here. Otherwise, I'm breaking one of Lucas's legs." David called Zachary directly.
"Do what you want."
Zachary hung up without a second thought.
David was furious. He'd deliberately stayed late just to see Zachary broken and grieving.
[You said you loved her. So where are you? Why aren't you here to see her off?]
[Zachary, you lying hypocrite. You never loved Quinley. She was just a substitute to you, a toy. You're the worst kind of person.]
[Keep pretending. But I'm telling you—Quinley lived as part of the Brown family, and she died as part of the Brown family. Don't you dare step foot in this cemetery ever again!]
David fired off message after message. Zachary didn't reply to a single one.
Later, David discovered Zachary had blocked him.
He'd won this battle, but somehow it felt like he hadn't won at all.
After that day, Zachary moved into the apartment in the south part of the city—the place where Quinley had lived. He'd only stayed there twice before. Once the night she asked for space. Once the night he'd offered her money to stay.
The place still looked exactly like it had when she was there. He removed the sheets covering the sofa, made the bed properly. Turned on all the lights, then got on his knees and scrubbed the floors with a rag.
When he got hungry, he cooked himself noodles. When he got tired, he lay down on the bed Quinley used to sleep in.
Those days, he ate well and slept soundly. Except every morning when the alarm went off, he'd instinctively glance to his left—where Quinley always slept beside him.
But now that space was empty.
He refused to believe she was dead. He was convinced she'd played a joke on everyone, and one day, she'd come back.
One day passed. Then a week.
Outside of work hours, Zachary holed himself up in that small apartment, waiting for Quinley to return.
Lucas watched him grow more and more silent, helpless to do anything about it. So he bought a bunch of alcohol and brought it over.
One night, Zachary had a dream. He dreamed Quinley came back.
When he woke, a storm raged outside. He stood at the window for a long time, watching streetlights sway violently in the wind and rain.
In that moment, he suddenly missed Quinley desperately. The longing overwhelmed him. He drank heavily until everything blurred.
The rain pounded harder, hammering against the windows. Then the door started rattling too.
He stumbled to his feet, barefoot, and went to answer it.
"Quinley."
He mumbled her name, opening the door with his heart full of hope. A woman stood outside, soaking wet.
But she wasn't Quinley.
"You're not Quinley."
He started to close the door. Alicia burst into tears. She'd never seen Zachary like this—hair disheveled, stubble covering his jaw, exhaustion written all over his weathered face.
"Zach, what have you done to yourself?"
Her heart broke. She rushed forward and threw her arms around him. His body went rigid. The alcohol had dulled his reflexes—his response came slowly.
"Let go."
He tried to push Alicia away. She refused, holding him tighter.
"Zach, she's gone. Please stop thinking about her. If you can't forget her, I can be her instead."