The Heiress's Comeback-Chapter 218: [ Volume 1] Chaper - Lets play.
But her words fell on deaf ears. His gaze darkened, resolve hardening as he raised the gun again. His jaw clenched, and a surge of adrenaline fueled him as he prepared to pull the trigger, to end this betrayal once and for all.
Bang!
A sudden, sharp crack split the air, but this time, it didn’t come from his gun. He barely felt the impact as a bullet tore through his skull from behind, shattering his thoughts mid-breath. His world spun, his knees buckling as he crumpled to the ground beside his wife, the earth cold beneath him. Blood seeped from the wound, staining the grass, mingling with hers in a macabre union.
The man’s vision blurred, his breaths shallow and labored as he fought to hold on to consciousness for just a moment longer. He struggled to lift his head, the faint outlines of figures looming above him blending with the hazy dusk. And then he saw it—the figure who had shot him, standing over him, watching with a chilling, calculated gaze.
His eyes widened in shock, disbelief flooding them as recognition dawned. Betrayal layered upon betrayal, leaving him stunned, broken, as the final shadows closed in around him. The world faded, his last thoughts drowned in a pool of darkness, cold and absolute.
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Back to present
Ray’s vision blurred with anger, his breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts as his aunt’s words sliced through the room, each one a weapon crafted to wound him in ways she hadn’t before.
"You know, don’t you?" She taunted, her voice sharp and grating, a twisted mockery of concern. "Your parents didn’t just fall from that hill. I put them there, made it look like an accident. I arranged it all—down to the crash, the fire, everything. And they would have gotten away with it too if it weren’t for your mother’s last act of defiance."
Ray’s fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. His aunt’s voice dripped with venomous satisfaction as she continued, relishing every moment of his horror.
"She had to ruin everything, didn’t she?" she sneered, her face contorted with loathing. "She sent that beast to you—connected it to you, bonded it to your blood. Even after I’d stripped her of everything, she still found a way to keep you out of my reach."
Her laugh echoed in the room, hollow and cold. She reached out to the nearby cabinet and swept its contents onto the floor with a crashing swipe, each object hitting the ground in a chaotic symphony. "I thought, once she was out of the way, the beast would choose me. But, no," she spat, her voice thick with venom. "Every time I came close to taking what was rightfully mine, that creature would scream, like claws on my bones, ripping through my skull."
Ray’s stomach twisted as he watched her, the weight of her words pressing down on him like iron chains. His mother had been trying to protect him even in death, leaving him with a guardian—a final act of love. And this woman before him, the one he’d once called aunt, had been dismantling that legacy piece by piece.
Her eyes drifted to his injured leg, and she gave a satisfied smirk. "You have no idea how long I’ve waited to see you helpless. I planned that accident, you know. Every moment of it. I wanted you crippled, helpless, forced to rely on me. But, of course, that beast wouldn’t let me do it. It protected you time and again, as if it enjoyed defying me. I was inches away from destroying you—just inches!" Her voice quivered with rage. "Every time, I could feel its hatred, gnawing at my bones."
She pointed to the windows and doors, where small pouches hung, innocent-looking but reeking of something darker. Ray’s stomach twisted as he realized what they were. "These," she sneered, motioning to the pouches, "contain a rare herb. It weakens any beast, brings it to its knees. Since the moment you stepped in here, it’s been choking the strength out of yours, dimming that precious connection."
Ray’s heart pounded as the truth settled over him like a shroud. He had felt weaker, his beast’s presence faint, as if it were fighting some unseen force. He’d chalked it up to his own exhaustion, brushing aside the agitation that had simmered every time she was near. The beast had known, had warned him, but he’d ignored it. How could he have been so blind?
The realization burned through him, shame and fury mixing in his veins. His beast had fought for him, had struggled against every trap his aunt had set, and he hadn’t listened. He’d been too consumed with his own doubts to hear the cries of his guardian, the protector his mother had left him.
His aunt watched him, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as she relished his shock. But beneath the pain and guilt, something stronger stirred in Ray—a resolve, a spark that refused to be extinguished. His beast was weakened, true, but not gone. And neither was he.
. .....
The hillside was quiet, except for the faint crackle of flames licking up from the wreckage below. But then—against all odds—a bloody hand gripped the edge of the hill. Fingers clawed into the earth, raw and trembling, the knuckles white with strain. It was a struggle, each movement labored and slow, as if every muscle was on the edge of giving out.
...
The second aunt tossed the pristine white suit onto the cold, polished floor, and it landed with a soft thud, the fabric pooling like some tainted symbol of innocence. The suit was crisp, immaculate, and starkly out of place, like a wedding suit cast into the heart of a nightmare.
"Put it on," she said, her voice was unnervingly calm, a poisonous smile tugging at her lips. She looked at him with eyes that held no warmth, only the satisfaction of a cat cornering its prey.
He stared down at the suit, his face twisting with disgust and fury.
