The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

A cold glint reflected off Christopher's glasses. As his emotional wounds were painfully laid bare, a savage, beast-like bloodlust surfaced within him. The shame, frustration, and vulnerability stirred up something within him.

"Bella... I know you hate me, but you can't accuse me like this..." His voice wavered between defensiveness and desperation.

"Accuse you? Christopher, you really are out of your mind! If you dared to do it, why can't you admit it?" Bella stared at his pale, sinister face with nothing but searing hatred.

"Mrs. Iverson's condition seemed to have gotten worse because of my words, but when she convulsed and foamed at the mouth, I knew something was wrong! You once mentioned that your mother had a weak heart, but when I checked her pupils and pulse, it wasn't consistent with a heart attack or even epilepsy! Later, her skin developed red blotches, and now, given your behavior, I have every reason to believe that she was poisoned. You must have injected her with some toxin beforehand! She was poisoned to death!"

Christopher's hand, wrapped tightly around her waist, tensed further, the veins on the back of his pale hand bulging as his eyes flashed with a murderous gleam.

"Christopher... Have you not taken enough lives and caused enough damage? How could you bring yourself to hurt and kill your own mother? How could you do such a thing?" Bella spoke with disbelief and anguish.

strength is in your intelligence, but your flaw is being too clever," Christopher laughed, but it was a twisted, sorrowful sound, more akin

so much force, as if he might crush the delicate bone beneath his fingers. "I did it all for you... It's all

ruthless, and inhumane to everyone. Yet toward Bella, he had never lost his temper, not even

never yelled at her like this, like a

a tangled mess of contradictory feelings-love and hate, resentment and rage,

so long that they had festered and bred like parasites within

it was too late. He had become a dehumanized monster, completely out of control and filled with

hadn't killed her, she wouldn't have had much time left. In the end, she would have died in extreme pain. I merely spared

lot harder . I had only one chance, and I couldn't afford to fail. So, I let my mother help me. Even though she's gone, I think... She'd forgive me because she loved me.

overwhelming emotions of pain and