Free Web NovelChapter 273: Chapter 276: Even Killing You Is Useless
Then, his entire body went rigid.
Charlotte Shaw’s fist paused for a second, and a flicker of alarm went through her as she felt the change in Willow Quincy’s body.
Willow was completely rigid, his even breathing turning heavy and ragged. At the same time, his right arm, draped over Charlotte, was twitching violently.
Charlotte’s dark eyes shifted. Seeing the changes in his body, she started to suspect something.
To test her theory, she acted quickly, landing another punch on Willow’s right arm.
"Ngh—"
Willow’s pained, muffled groan confirmed Charlotte’s suspicion in an instant.
"Willow, you have an injury on your arm, don’t you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.
Willow didn’t hide it, admitting frankly, "Yes, I have an old injury on my arm."
"Hmph," Charlotte sneered, her voice laced with venom. "An old injury? Good. That makes me feel much better."
With that, she reached out and dug her fingers into the wound on Willow’s arm.
"Argh—"
Willow’s eyes were screwed shut. His whole body trembled in agony, but still, he refused to let go of Charlotte.
Charlotte showed him no mercy. She kept squeezing his arm, increasing the pressure until her own hand began to ache.
But still, Willow refused to release her.
"Hah..." He grit his teeth, a scorching laugh escaping his lips. "Sonia, do you hate me that much? To be so ruthless, even knowing my arm is injured?"
"Of course I hate you!" Charlotte made no attempt to hide her loathing, her voice practically a snarl. "Willow Quincy, I absolutely despise you!"
Willow opened his eyes, gazing obsessively at her stubborn profile. "Do you really hate me that much? So much that you can’t feel even a shred of pity for me?"
"’Pity?’" The word made Charlotte laugh out loud. "Willow Quincy, ’pity’ is a word that will never apply to you! Even if you dropped dead in front of me this very second, I could never feel sorry for you!"
"...Why?" Willow’s voice was choked with emotion.
"Because you deserve it!" Charlotte said viciously. "You swapped the lives of three women! You’re the reason we were separated from our birth parents as children, forced to endure hardships we never should have faced!"
"You secretly tried to kill my Felix Preston, nearly succeeding twice! And now you’ve selfishly kidnapped me, tearing us apart—a husband and wife—and separating me from my own flesh and blood!"
"Willow Quincy, your crimes are monstrous, and you deserve a thousand deaths! You don’t deserve an ounce of my sympathy!"
"What if I admit I was wrong?"
Willow grabbed Charlotte’s shoulders and rolled her onto her back. Then, propping himself up on one arm, he loomed over her.
"Sonia, what if I know I was wrong? What if I’m willing to make it up to you?"
"...And what good would that do?" Charlotte asked, her voice light. "What’s the point of you realizing you’re wrong? What’s the point of you wanting to make amends? Can your regrets turn back time to before any of this happened?"
"..."
Willow had no answer.
"Hmph..." A mocking smile touched Charlotte’s lips. "It’s too late for all that. Killing you now wouldn’t solve anything."
"Sonia..." Willow gazed at her desperately, a final spark of hope burning in his tear-filled eyes. "Are you really not going to give me a single chance?"
"I’m not." Charlotte’s reply was instant and unwavering.
The tension holding Willow up suddenly snapped. He deflated as if his very soul had been ripped out, collapsing weakly onto the bed.
He had finally let go of Charlotte.
But Charlotte didn’t leave. She simply lay there, rigid, staring blankly at the ceiling with vacant eyes.
A moment later, Willow, lying beside her, seemed to sense something. He suddenly reached out and brushed a hand against Charlotte’s cheek.
As expected, his fingers came away wet.
"Why are you crying?" Willow instantly grew tense.
"I miss Felix Preston."
"..."
Her simple, dispassionate words pinned Willow to the spot.
Willow stared at her, stunned into silence.
Charlotte paid his reaction no mind, continuing as if talking to herself. "I miss Felix so, so much. I miss him holding me as I fall asleep, him wrapping his arms around me while we watch TV. I miss the way he’d coax me to eat like I was a little kid, and how he’d brag to everyone at his studio that I was the wife he loved most in the world."
"I wasted more than twenty years of my life. It took me so long to finally find someone who truly cherishes me, truly loves me. You’d have to kill me before I ever gave him up."
"...Sonia." Willow’s Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. His voice was completely raw.
"Do you really miss Felix that much?"
"Yes." Tears streamed down Charlotte’s face, but her tone was resolute. "I miss him that much. I miss him so much I think I’m going to lose my mind."
As she spoke, she turned her head to look at Willow. Then, as if to twist the knife, she brought up things she knew he couldn’t bear to hear.
"I don’t just miss him. I miss the nights we spent tangled together. I miss every single mark he left on my body!"
Just as she’d hoped, the moment the words left her mouth, Willow’s breathing grew ragged.
"Hah," she laughed, her tone dripping with contempt. "You? What makes you think you can even compare to my Felix?"
"..."
Willow glared at her, utterly speechless.
Having said so much, she was exhausted. She turned her head away, done with him.
She didn’t know when Willow left. By the time she came back to herself, he was gone.
The night deepened. She lay with her eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, not a hint of sleep in them.
’Kyloria...’
’Finn Quincy...’
’Those two names echoed in her mind. She clenched her fists under the covers, feeling as though she’d just found a glimmer of hope for escape.’
...
TAP... TAP... TAP...
The sound of unhurried footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. Inside the secret room, Jude Quinn held his breath, straining his ears to catch any sound from outside the door.
He didn’t know where he was. All he knew was that he’d woken up to find himself inexplicably imprisoned here.
The place was dark and damp, seeing no daylight. Even the air felt heavy and oppressive.
He was a man of the world, but even he felt a primal fear creep into his heart.
TAP...
The footsteps finally stopped outside the rusted iron door.
He raised his head in alarm, his terrified gaze fixed on the iron door shrouded in darkness.
CLICK—
SCRAPE—
The lock on the iron door clicked open. Then, the door scraped ajar, and a tall, slender figure appeared in his field of vision.
He strained his eyes, trying desperately to make out the figure’s face. But the light was too dim, and the person was backlit. He could have strained his eyes until they broke, but he still wouldn’t have seen a thing.
TAP...
Then, the figure lifted a foot and began to walk slowly toward him.
