Chapter 254 Alan in Reality
Alexander took the phone, opened the photo album, and clicked on the video Mark had mentioned.
The moment the screen lit up, Alexander went completely still.
The person on screen was Caroline—years younger, frozen in time.
She was wearing that red dress she'd loved so much. Just ordinary linen, but on her it looked more elegant than any designer gown, as beautiful as the Caroline who haunted his dreams.
She lay in a lounge chair in the back garden, a wide-brimmed sun hat shading her face, her gaze drifting over the flower beds she'd tended herself. A smile of pure contentment played at her lips.
It must have been one of Caroline's rare peaceful moments.
In the background, Alexander appeared on the other side of the wrought iron fence.
He was in his own backyard, sitting by the pool, lost in thought, absently tossing pebbles into the water one after another.
Alexander couldn't even remember when this had been filmed.
But it was obvious that part of Caroline's unconscious smile came from his presence nearby.
That was how Caroline loved—
She never approached. Just watching from a distance was enough to bring her peace.
Alexander's chest constricted, a tearing sensation spreading through his ribs.
Caroline had told him countless times how she loved.
In reality, in dreams—he'd heard it all.
But he'd never truly understood what that meant.
Even in his dreams, though he'd tried desperately to reach that depth of feeling, even deliberately learning to love her the way she'd loved him, he'd only scratched the surface.
And now, for the first time, he saw without any filter what Caroline looked like when she loved him completely, unreservedly.
She'd been true to herself from beginning to end, never wavering.
He was the one who had failed her.
Tears blurred Alexander's vision again. He reached out with trembling fingers, touching Caroline's face on the screen over and over.
The distance between them seemed close enough to touch, yet as vast as the divide between life and death.
Mark said softly, "Sir, please don't torture yourself. I've made multiple backup copies of this video. You can watch it whenever you need to."
Alexander nodded hard, "Thank you, Mark."
Just as he was about to press the old phone—Edith's phone—against his chest, as if holding Caroline's warm body close, a barely audible female whisper came from the video.
The voice was too soft to make out.
Worried it might be Caroline and terrified of missing a single word, he immediately turned the volume to maximum, rewound a few seconds, and pressed the phone to his ear.
But the voice that followed was Edith's.
"Look at her. Alexander's just sitting there staring at nothing, and she can't take her eyes off him. You know what? Maybe I should convince my mother not to marry her off to the Simmons family. Let her marry Alexander instead—she'd be over the moon. And when Alexander's forced to marry a woman he doesn't love at all, he'll resent Caroline. As long as his emotions are tangled up with her, he won't have the energy to deal with you. Then you can move forward with your plan."
Alexander froze.
Edith was clearly speaking to Linus.
She must have caught sight of Caroline watching him during one of her conversations, recorded it to mock her, and planned to use them both as pawns.
Rage flooded through Alexander, and he nearly hurled the phone across the room.
But remembering it held one of the precious few images of Caroline, his hand stopped mid-motion.
He couldn't throw it.
No matter what, he couldn't.
Even with backups, he still couldn't.
How dare Edith mock Caroline? What gave her the right?
Alexander's temples throbbed with fury. He could almost see himself storming to the hospital and strangling that cruel woman with his bare hands.
Then, as if struck by lightning, he stopped cold.
"The Simmons family..." Alexander repeated under his breath.
Wasn't that the oil dynasty that had appeared in his dream?
In the dream, Isabella had wanted to marry Caroline off to someone named Simmons. But in his actual memories, there'd never been such a thing. He didn't even know what arrangements Isabella had made for Caroline's future marriage.
He'd always assumed it was just fiction his subconscious had created.
Yet now, after all these years, he was hearing that family name again in Edith's old recording.
Alexander's heart plummeted.
Something forgotten was clawing its way up from the depths of his mind, the pain making it nearly impossible to breathe.
He was certain he'd forgotten something crucial, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't grasp it.
The pain intensified. Alexander clutched his head and let out a low groan.
Mark grabbed his swaying body, alarmed, "Sir, are you alright?"
"I... don't know..." Alexander's voice sounded distant, detached.
He was silent for several seconds, then suddenly looked up.
"Mark, have you heard of the Simmons family?"
Mark blinked, hesitating as he searched his memory, before finally recalling something.
"I have, sir. The Simmons family made their fortune in oil in Ashbourne, then relocated to Larywood. After the move, besides continuing the oil business, they expanded into finance and real estate. But we haven't heard much about them in recent years. Supposedly several of the Simmons sons died under strange circumstances, one after another—like someone had it out for the family."
Alexander immediately grabbed Mark's hand.
"What else do you know? Keep going!"
Though Mark didn't understand why his reaction was so intense, he continued.
"They say after all those promising heirs had their accidents, the family only had their youngest son left—Alan. He's mentally unstable. Practically insane."
Alan.
The very person Isabella had planned to marry Caroline off to.
Alexander's hands shook with excitement. He pressed on, "And then? What else?"
"They say Alan has XYY syndrome—super-male syndrome. His condition was abnormal from birth, and he developed serious psychiatric problems before he was even ten. Not only is he violent, but he also has some... very extreme tendencies." Mark's expression grew uncomfortable.
"I heard he enjoys torturing women and never holds back. And... he has this disturbing preference—he seems to get off on being betrayed by his partners."