Chapter 4

The storm brewing around William was almost tangible, his dark eyes clouded with uncontrollable rage. He shoved Catherine aside and marched over to Elizabeth, grabbing her by the neck, his face twisted in chilling fury. “Regret marrying me? All because I killed your bastard kid? Let me tell you, I wish I'd chopped up that thing and made you eat it, just to vent my disgust!” Elizabeth's expression shifted from heartbreak to shock and finally to disbelief. Tears welled up in her eyes, trembling, and then rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably. “William, how could you be so cruel?” Her tear landed on his hand, its warmth stinging more than fire, striking something deep inside. William's grip loosened, his expression faltering as he turned and walked out of the room. He knew if he stayed, he might actually lose control. The moment he left, Elizabeth curled into herself and started coughing hard, her frail frame wracked with pain. “Maria, step outside for a bit. I need to check on Elizabeth's wound,” Catherine ordered coldly. Seeing how pale and weak Elizabeth looked, Maria nodded and quickly exited. “Feeling awful?” Catherine sneered. “You deserve every bit of it.” “Why?” Elizabeth rasped, staring at her sister who seemed like a completely different person. Catherine's eyes burned with resentment. “I was half a daughter in the Smith family too. Why did the marriage alliance with the Turner family have to be you? You took my place, ruined my relationship with William. He loved me! But now that I'm back, it's your turn to step aside.” Tears streamed down Elizabeth's face. “You hated me all this time? You knew I wasn't the one who drugged him...” “I was the one who drugged him,” Catherine interrupted with a twisted smile, leaning in close, glee flashing in her eyes. “I'm also the one who tipped off the media. Since I couldn't have him, I made sure he hated you. All that ice he gave you the past two years? That was my win. Oh, and the photos with Michael? Fake. All nicely edited. But guess what? William will never believe you. Isn't that amazing?” “Catherine!” Elizabeth's voice trembled with fury. She raised her hand to slap her—twenty-something years, and she'd never hated anyone this much. But before she could act, Catherine twisted her arm and pinned it behind her, cuffing her to the headboard. Watching Elizabeth struggle in pain only made Catherine more excited. She leaned in close and whispered, “Why aren't you dead yet, huh? Just die already. Then you'll finally be free. Your son won't be alone down there anymore either. And think about it—William and I can finally be together. Don't you love him? Why not do one last thing for him and let go?” Every word stabbed like a knife into Elizabeth's chest, each one drawing blood. The metallic taste rose in her throat, and she choked, coughing up blood. Catherine's eyes lit up. With eerie calm, she adjusted Elizabeth's position, trying to choke her to death on her own blood. As the air in her lungs thinned, Elizabeth had never felt clearer. All those years of love for William—what a tragic joke. Right then, a voice cut through the air. “Catherine! What the hell are you doing?!”