Chapter 8
After giving a sharp glance to the white coat, Brandon silently ordered him forward. The doctor stepped up and reached to hold my brother firmly.
I struggled desperately, pushing him away, but strong hands yanked me aside and slammed me against the cold wall.
“No! Brandon, please–don’t touch my brother!” I begged, voice cracking with fear.
“I kowtow to Marilyn. I apologize! I’ll do anything for her!”
“Let my brother go! Let him go! I’d rather be locked up and tortured again than see him hurt!” Brandon’s frown deepened. Marilyn gave a quick, triumphant wink to the doctor. Without hesitation, the white coat raised the syringe and plunged the needle into my brother’s arm.
“No!” I screamed, but my shouts fell on deaf ears.
I watched in helpless horror as the entire vial was injected into Tyrone.
My brother slumped onto the bed, looking dazed and confused.
“See? Nothing happened,” Brandon said, his voice dripping with disdain, as if I were the one making a fuss.
The doctors released me, and I collapsed to the floor, utterly drained.
But I didn’t care about anything else–I stumbled to my brother’s side.
He gave me a weak smile, one that was more heartbreaking than tears.
“Sister…” he called softly.
Is he really… okay?
“You’re the one who’s bad,” he said faintly. “You think everyone else is like you.”
“Marilyn isn’t like you–she doesn’t spend her days scheming to hurt people.”
“If your brother gets better, you’ll have to thank her.”
With that, he draped an arm around Marilyn’s shoulders and stood to leave.
“Sister, I’m fine. Really.”
My heart soared at his words, but in the next moment, blood burst from his mouth like a
fountain.
He collapsed to the ground, his body convulsing violently.
“Tyrone! Tyrone, what’s wrong?! Doctor! Someone, please help!”
I held his head in my trembling hands, screaming until my voice was hoarse–no one came.
“Sister, don’t cry…”
Through the blood pouring from his lips, Tyrone raised a shaky hand to wipe my tears away.
“Sister, I won’t drag you down anymore…”
His hand fell limply.
Tyrone was gone.
“Ahh!” I screamed, the sound tearing from my soul.
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My Tyrone… I never thought he was a burden.
If he was alive, I still had family–hope.
I just wanted him to get better.
But Marilyn and Brandon had killed him.
cried until my tears ran dry, then snatched up the phone beside me, my eyes blazing with cold Fury and a thirst for revenge.
–
Meanwhile, at the Parrish family villa, a lavish lawn wedding was underway.
Guests from all walks of life–business tycoons, socialites, even former classmates–filled the place with laughter and chatter.
Marilyn dazzled in a shimmering wedding gown, every inch the proud and arrogant princess.
Hand in hand with Brandon, she glided down the red carpet toward the stage.
His eyes briefly locked onto me in the crowd, and a slow, confident smirk curled at the corner o his mouth–as if to prove a point.
When the MC announced the exchange of rings, the crowd erupted in applause.
‘Truly a match made in heaven!” one whispered.
‘I heard the bride’s parents head the EastBridge Holdings. With such a powerful alliance, soon the whole city of Everlasting will be owned by the Parrishes!”
‘I envy the bride so much–so beautiful, such a prestigious family. How did she reincarnate like his? Teach me your secrets!”
Judith, propped up by her daughter, beamed with pride, straightening her chest at the praise. Nonsense, she thought, the daughter–in–law she chose was a thousand times better than that nobody, Anna.
But just as the celebration reached its peak, the doors swung open.
A ragged, gray–haired couple, led by a tall, strikingly handsome man, stepped inside and scanned
the room with intent.
Chapter 8
