“Linnea, let’s get a divorce.” His eyes glistened, but his voice was steady. “In three days, I’ll marry Agatha. You’ll be our bridesmaid. After the wedding, I’ll let you go.”
She stared, stunned. For five years she had begged for divorce, and each time he refused. Now he was willing to throw away even his hatred for Agatha’s sake.
She smiled faintly. “Okay. Mr. Duvall, can I leave now?”
But Agatha caught her wrist. “Miss Carrington, you haven’t apologized to Ellie yet. As her murderer, don’t you feel even a shred of guilt after all these years?”
Linnea’s nostrils filled with the metallic tang of blood again. No—she couldn’t let them see her like this. She shook off Agatha’s hand, but the woman screamed, collapsing from her wheelchair.
“Agatha!”
She lay on the ground, wrists scraped bloody, the immortal knot broken. Soren rushed to scoop her up.
Between sobs, she gasped, “Linnea… you killed Ellie, and now you humiliate me because I can’t walk? Was I wrong to speak to you?”
Soren’s voice was a blade. “Linnea, are you looking for death? How many people around me do you have to kill before you stop?”
He seized her wrist—and froze. It was so thin, it felt like it would snap.
She lifted her head, trying to speak, but a surge of crimson poured from her nose. “I…”
Before she could finish her words, blood oozed from her nose and mouth, causing her to sneeze. Blood sprayed all over the man's white suit...
A feeling of dizziness and a strong sense of suffocation swept over her instantly, and fear surged in her heart. Was she going to... die in front of him today?
