The King of Hell's Fated Rival

My name's Zoe Yates. In J City, nobody doesn't know that Charles Lewis and I are sworn enemies. We've been clashing since we were kids, and as we grew up, we fought tooth and nail in every field. That day, Charles showed up out of nowhere, his eyes tangled with so much emotion they made my heart race. "Zoe Yates, we've been at this for so many years. I'm just tired." He spoke, his voice carrying a weariness I'd never heard before. I frowned, cautiously asking, "Charles Lewis, what scheme are you trying to pull this time?" But he stepped forward, grabbed my hand, his tone deadly serious: "How about we end this together? That way, we can finally escape this endless fight and be together forever." I froze, completely unprepared for what he just said. After all these years of fighting, my feelings toward him had already gotten complicated, and when I heard that, some strange force made me agree. We agreed to end our lives in the abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. I drank the drugged wine first, and just before my consciousness slipped away, I saw Charles Lewis lift the other glass—and for a moment, a flicker of hope sparked inside me. But when I regained awareness, I realized I was floating in midair. I looked down to see my own body lying cold on the floor, while Charles Lewis stood nearby, perfectly fine, not the slightest sign he intended to die with me. "Charles Lewis! You lied to me!" I screamed, but he couldn't hear me. He stared coldly at my dead body, then called his men to deal with it, turning away as if the man who promised to die with me wasn't even him. In the days that followed, I became a restless spirit, forced to linger by Charles Lewis's side. I watched him return to the places we once battled, handling the company like nothing had changed. But before long, I noticed him chasing after women who resembled me. The first woman he brought home, he looked at her with a tenderness that ignited my jealousy. "What's your name?" Charles Lewis asked her. "My name is Lydia Young." She answered shyly. I was furious and spent that night stirring up eerie noises all around the house. The cup smashed suddenly on the floor, the lights flickering on and off, and Lydia screamed, terrified, running out of the room—and never coming back. Charles Lewis gazed at the empty room, his face sinking into a dark, dreadful shadow. But he didn't give up; he found a second, then a third stand-in. Each one, I scared away in the exact same way. I wanted him to know—if he betrayed me, there was no way he could just find a stand-in to soothe himself. When he dug up my grave, I was there watching, right beside him. The cold earth was ripped open, my coffin laid bare to the open air. Charles Lewis stood off to the side, eyes empty of guilt—just a twisted kind of obsession. "Zoe Yates, if you won't stay put, then I'll keep you by my side—even if you're just a corpse." He muttered under his breath. I watched what he did, and my heart felt like it was being sliced open. We'd battled all our lives, only to end up like this.