Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Howard’s face was pale with terror, streaked with tears. He was frozen in place, too scared to move, let alone resist. His voice trembled as he pleaded, “Sophia, please! I don’t want to die! Murder is a crime and you’ll pay for it, Sophia!”
Heather’s legs buckled, and she collapsed to her knees, clutching at Jonathan’s sleeve in desperation. “Honey, please! Save Howard! You have to save him!”
Jonathan’s brows knitted tightly, his entire body tense. His hands trembled slightly at his sides, but he stayed silent, afraid that even a single word might provoke Sophia.
The wind picked up, whipping Sophia’s loose hair around her emotionless face. The scene was eerily reminiscent of a villainess from a movie, her chilling presence amplified by the gusts of wind.
She hadn’t let go yet, but Howard was already paralyzed with fear. He squeezed his eyes shut, too terrified to even glance down. “I don’t want to die, Sophia! Please, hold on! Don’t let go, please!”
Sophia let go. Howard vanished from the balcony in an instant. Heather let out a piercing scream before fainting on the spot.
Jonathan’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t have time to think about anything else, not even Heather. He rushed downstairs, dialing for an ambulance as he
went.
Yvette stood frozen in place, completely stunned by what had just happened.
Sophia shoved Heather out of the room and slammed the door shut, finally getting some peace and quiet.
That night, the Chandler residence was brightly lit, chaos lingering in the air.
Howard had been thrown from the second floor, breaking his leg and losing consciousness on the spot.
At the hospital, the endless tests and preparations for surgery left Jonathan utterly drained. He slumped onto a bench outside the ward, looking
completely worn out.
When Heather woke up, she sobbed, her voice trembling. “Jonathan, Sophia’s gone mad! We can’t keep her here anymore. She’ll destroy us all!”
Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm. “Why were Howard and Yvette in her room?”
Heather froze, guilt flashed across her face. “I…”
Under Jonathan’s sharp gaze, Heather finally confessed, “She went to the Wilder residence in Yvette’s place, so the gift should’ve been Yvette’s. I just…”
Jonathan’s face darkened with fury. “So you sent Howard and Yvette to demand the gift from her?”
Heather hung her head low, but Jonathan exploded. “Heather! How many times have I told you not to provoke her? Why can’t you just listen?
“Do you have a death wish? Not only did you ignore me, but you went out of your way to provoke her and try to snatch something from her!”
Jonathan felt his temples pounding, his blood pressure spiking, and his vision darkening.
Heather, startled by his scolding, quickly lashed out, her temper flaring. “Why are you always trying to control us? Why don’t you do something about her
instead?”
Jonathan’s gaze was heavy with disappointment, his exhaustion written all over his face.
He turned to leave, but Heather grabbed his hand in a panic, her voice trembling and tearful. “Honey, you can’t just leave us like this! Howard… Howard needs you!”
Jonathan gently removed her hand, his tone colder. “I’ll deal with Howard. You should rest.” With that, he walked away without looking back.
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Chapter 48
Heather stared at the closed hospital room door, her voice rising in a hysterical scream. “Sophial It’s all Sophia’s fault?
She felt like she was losing her mind. Sophia’s violent outbursts, her casual use of knives, and now a dagger it was all too much
Sophia even threw Howard off the second floor without even blinking.
Heather shuddered uncontrollably as she recalled Sophia’s eerily cold expression at that moment. The memory sent chills down her spine.
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The thought of Sophia’s threats and the unresolved issue of the three million dollars haunted her. If Sophia ever found out that Heather had no intention of paying, she would definitely face the end. The mere thought made Heather’s blood run cold.
Heather’s reddened eyes gleamed with a dangerous resolve. She had to do something–anything—to get rid of Sophia. That girl couldn’t stay in the house any longer.
Heather’s hands trembled as she frantically searched the hospital bed for her phone. When she finally found it, her fingers shook as she dialed a number.
Sophia sat on her bed, carefully studying the dagger in her hand. The blade, less than twenty centimeters long, gleamed coldly under the light, while the ruby embedded in the hilt sparkled brilliantly.
She swung the dagger through the air, the sharp edge slicing cleanly, teaving a faint chill in its wake. The cold glint of the blade flashed, carrying an aura of dominance and sharp intensity.
With a flick of her wrist, Sophia sent the dagger flying into the desk, where it sank deep, its tip piercing through the wood below.
Sophia smirked in satisfaction, placed the dagger back into its box, and glanced at the ruined desk. ‘Guess I’ll replace it tomorrow, she thought.
Just as she was about to head for a shower, a knock came at her door. “Sophia, open the door,” Sean’s voice called from the other side.
Sophia opened the door with a blank expression. “What is it?” she asked flatly.
Sean stood outside, dressed in a suit, his face weary and carrying a faint scent of alcohol. It seemed he had just returned from an event. “You need to move out,” Sean said, his tone heavy.
Sophia chuckled softly, leaning lazily against the doorframe with her arms crossed and chin raised, her arrogance on full display.
“Move out? Just because you said so? How pathetic would that make me look?” Sophia smirked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Actually, staying here has been quite entertaining. Don’t you agree?”
Sean’s brows furrowed deeply, his dark eyes filled with open disgust. “Your idea of ‘has been quite entertaining‘ is assaulting your own family. Sophia, I suggest you know when to stop.”
Sophia rolled her eyes, sneering, “What can you do to me, you idiot?”
With a loud bang, Sophia slammed the door shut.
She thought, ‘Leave the Chandler residence and let them off the hook? Not a chance. I’d never be able to live with myself.
Sophia hummed a cheerful tune as she headed to take a shower.
Out of nowhere, her foot slipped, and Sophia hit the ground with a dull thud. Her knee was already turning blue from the impact. Without a word, she got up, dusted herself off, and went back to showering–like nothing had happened.
Hitting Yvette came with a price, but it was a price she could afford to pay.
Before bed, Sophia’s thoughts lingered on the dagger. It was perfect-sharp, balanced, and fit her hand like a glove. But she was missing one thing: a sheath. If it had one, it would be flawless./
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Chapter 48
Maybe it was a case of “daytime thoughts, nighttime dreams,” but Sophia, who hadn’t had nightmares in ages, fell into a deep sleep and dreamed.
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During her first cycle, Sophia had been paralyzed, trapped in a body that felt nothing. When she died, her corpse was left to rot, forgotten by the Chandler
family.
“How pitiful,” a warm, clear voice tinged with quiet sorrow murmured beside her lifeless body. “No one came for you, but perhaps this is fate. May you live a better life if there’s another chance. Rest well.”
The man collected her remains. She had thought he would dispose of her ashes carelessly, but to her surprise, he found someone to bury her in a prime location.
During her second cycle, she sought revenge against Yvette, earning the reputation of a wicked woman. In the end, she died violently in the streets, once again abandoned and unclaimed.
The man appeared again. His ethereal appearance and calm demeanor contrasted starkly with the grotesque state of her corpse. He sighed with quiet compassion and once more took care of her remains.
From her third cycle to her eighth, every time she died, the man would appear and bury her.
Sophia found it almost laughable. The scene shifted, and she was holding a dagger in her hand.
“This dagger is for protection, not for harm. If you must use it, avoid striking vital areas–it’s not meant to take lives,” the voice instructed.
She couldn’t see him, but his voice was unforgettable–warm, clear, and elegant, with a gentle sorrow that lingered in every word.
He was like a grim reaper, always there when the world turned its back on her–a quiet, unwavering presence in her endless cycle of despair.
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