Chapter One :Chapter 1

"Elaine, you must follow my lead later. Our future together depends on this moment," the man whispered in a husky, suggestive voice, laced with desire.

"Mmm, I know... enduring her for over a decade is enough; once she dies, I won't suffer her oppression anymore, and no one will ever come between us again... Arnold, I love you so much," the woman's soft and alluring voice carried a hint of malice.

"Good girl, you always make me harder!"


Today was the day of the engagement between Arnold, the heir of Meridan's leading Meyer Group, and the lady of the Clark Jewelry.

It was the day when the two prominent jewelry groups in Meridan joined forces.

And it was supposed to be her big day, but right now, Jocelyn Clark was shivering.

She trembled as she listened, biting her lip with hatred.

Through the slightly ajar door, she witnessed the glued couple making out inside.

The man and woman lost in desires were her beloved fiancé and the stepsister she cherished like her own sister.

From childhood, she treated Elaine with all her heart.

She always thought of Elaine first whenever she had something good.

And Arnold Meyer was the only person she deeply loved.

She never expected that these two beloved person would cheat on her, and even plot to kill her...

A dizzy spell struck her, causing her to stagger a few steps.

The chaotic sound of high heels startled the people in the room. Arnold immediately rushed to the door, opened it, and saw Jocelyn leaning against the wall, her face pale and about to collapse.

He was slightly taken aback, then a bloodthirsty smile spread across his elegant and handsome face. "So, you heard everything."

Jocelyn, her face drained of color, looked at Arnold with his partially unbuttoned shirt. The images of him entangled with Elaine disgusted and nauseated her so much that, for a moment, she forgot their plot to kill her.

"How could you... I... I'll speak to Grandfather for justice..."

She spoke in agony, hastily turning to leave.

As soon as Arnold realized she intended to leave, he swiftly clasped her arm with his large hand.

Jocelyn shook him off as though stung, her face full of fear and caution, adopting a combative stance.

"Jocelyn, the combat skills you have, I taught you personally. Do you think you can beat me?" Arnold sneered coldly, his intimidating presence advancing step by step.

Her grandfather and her parents were already receiving guests at the hotel.

The other staff had taken leave, and the only ones left at the estate to guard it, the steward and the servant, had been deliberately sent away by him.

Today, Jocelyn had to die.

Jocelyn kept retreating, watching Arnold's eyes filled with murderous intent, her forehead dripping with cold sweat.

Arnold seemed to anticipate her attempt to flee, and he immediately launched a fierce attack, swift and merciless.

Jocelyn couldn't resist for long; within moments, Arnold had her arm in his grip. Her arms were twisted by him behind her back, and his rough movements made her extremely in pain.

In a quick roll, Jocelyn managed to break his hold and kicked mercilessly towards his lower body.

Regaining her freedom, she stared warily at Arnold who was standing a few paces away, radiating an aura of killing intent. At the same time, she quickly and cautiously backed towards the staircase.

Unexpectedly, just as she reached the stairs, someone forcefully pushed her from behind.


An ear-piercing scream echoed through the entire mansion.

Jocelyn fell and rolled down the marble staircase, ending up in a pool of blood.

Her pale face was stained red with blood, making her look bizarre and ghastly.

Her eyes were filled with cold resentment, disbelief, and shock as she looked up at Elaine standing at the top of the stairs. She struggled to rise but felt utterly powerless, feeling as if every bone in her body had fallen apart.

Arnold walked down the staircase arm in arm with Elaine. He looked down at the dying Jocelyn with a cruel smile.

"This widely anticipated engagement ceremony is what I've prepared for you, your funeral."

"This is a coming-of-age gift Arnold and I prepared for you, sis. Do you like it?" Elaine nestled into Arnold's embrace, flashing a victorious and taunting smile.

Hearing this, Jocelyn spat out a mouthful of blood, and struggled to stand up using all her strength, "I will fight you to the end..."

Even if it meant going to hell, she would drag them down with her.

"How reckless." Arnold stepped on Jocelyn's shoulder, restraining her from moving.

For a while, Jocelyn felt an unbearable pain, gasping for breath as waves of salty blood surged in her throat.

The physical agony and the heartrending pain of betrayal spread to every inch of her body, torturing her every nerve.

"Arnold, you look so handsome when you're in your killing mode... Hurry up and kill her; seeing her reminds me of the nightmares she's inflicted on me all these years." Elaine praised, pretending to be innocent while urging him on.

As long as Jocelyn died, everything from the Clark family would belong to her.

Upon hearing her words, Arnold brutally grabbed Jocelyn's hair and hammered her head hard on the marble floor.

After all, Jocelyn had fallen down the stairs; no one would suspect further violence.

Because they were her closest and most beloved.

Jocelyn's bloodshot eyes stared intensely at the two, her blood-covered hand firmly gripping Elaine's skirt, tearfully and resentfully gritting her teeth, "Arnold Meyer... Elaine Clark, even if I become a ghost, I'll crawl out of hell and drag you both down the hell with me..."


After her last words, she spat a mouthful of blood onto Arnold’s face.

In this life, she must have truly been blind, pouring out her heart to them, yet ending up with such a tragic death.

If she could go back in time, she would definitely send this scum of a man and rotten woman to hell before they could murder her.

If kindness led to this outcome...

Then in the next life, she would become an unforgivable demon of slaughter and evil.


At the same time, in the upscale ward...

A young girl lay on the hospital bed, her eyes tightly shut, brows furrowed in agony.

Her delicate and pallid face bore the signs of distress, a thin layer of sweat gracing her forehead, as if enduring some kind of pain or nightmare.

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