After My Brutal Death, My Hateful Brother Went Mad

My brother, Pierre, hated me since we were kids.

He never let me call him Pierre. He called me a curse, saying I killed his mother.

The day I was murdered, I called him crying:

"Pierre, please save me. I’m so scared."

He didn’t reply until Helena’s birthday party was over:

"I hope you’re actually kidnapped. I hope you die right now."

Then he blocked me.

The killer smiled as he slit my throat. Blood splattered everywhere.

"Turns out you’re just an unwanted brat. I’ll make this quick and painless for you."