Chapter 241

How dare a cripple covet the Lucas family fortune?

Even if he had the guts, he wouldn't live long enough to enjoy it!

Andrew Lucas knelt on the floor, shivering from the icy pain in his chest. He reached for his phone but couldn't grasp it.

How pathetic—he'd stabbed himself twice for that cripple.

How pathetic—he'd even considered dying for that cripple last night.

How pathetic—he'd begged Susan Thompson for forgiveness like a fool, planned an elaborate proposal, and gone down on one knee to ask for her hand.

How pathetic—he'd actually believed Susan had been faithful, torturing himself with guilt over Nicole Capra's pregnancy.

How pathetic—he'd thought Susan cared for him.

Utterly pathetic...

Andrew closed his eyes. Susan, did you enjoy making a fool out of me? Laughing at how stupid Andrew Lucas is?

Playing games with me while pretending to love Henry Bartley—doesn't it sicken you?

He turned abruptly, his dark gaze landing on Susan's sleeping face.

Stumbling to the balcony, he retrieved his phone and staggered back to the bed like a walking corpse.

A smile still lingered on her lips.

Look—even in her dreams, she's gloating about deceiving this idiot!

Andrew sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers closing around her slender neck.

Susan, why are you doing this to me?

Is toying with my feelings fun for you?

But he released her.

The bitter truth struck him—even if she lied, hurt him, or wanted him dead, he still couldn't bring himself to harm her.

Tears welled in his bloodshot eyes as he withdrew his hand.

He appeared invincible, yet was fragile to the core.

And this fragility existed only because of her.

He loved her, so he feared losing her.

Tracing her delicate features, he'd thought happiness was within reach—only to be discarded.

Or perhaps she'd never been his to begin with.

"Susan, you're heartless!"

Andrew's teeth ground together. He despised himself for being unable to hurt this viper.

No matter how much he hated her, he'd rather endure agony than see her suffer.

So his fist didn't strike her face—it smashed into the bedframe instead. Blood dripped, yet he felt no pain.

All suffering concentrated in his heart, where no wound could bring relief.

Clutching his chest, he surrendered to the bone-deep torment.

The pain paralyzed him. He wished for death.

But Henry's phone call forced him to move.

Nicole might already be in Henry's clutches. If he didn't act now, her life would be ruined!

Grabbing Susan's phone, Henry's address flashed on the unlocked screen.

Andrew didn't bother with a coat. Snatching his keys, he bolted out the door.

He had to reach Nicole in time.

Henry's villa stood in the suburbs.

Andrew sped through the night, arriving quickly.

Henry had been "thoughtful"—even providing the gate code: Susan's birthday.

The gates swung open as Andrew entered the numbers, his expression murderous.

Only one room on the second floor was lit.

Nicole's screams pierced the air as he mounted the stairs.

"Help! No!"

"Andrew, save me!"

"Henry Bartley, you monster! Let me go! Please!"

Slap!

The sharp sound of repeated blows echoed.

Then Henry's cold voice: "Nicole Capra, shut up! You hurt my Susan—now I'll destroy you."

"Make my wife unhappy? I'll make you wish for death."

"Tonight, you're going straight to hell!"

"No!" Nicole sobbed hysterically. "I never touched Susan—she's the one framing me! Henry, please!"

"I only love Andrew! How can I live after this?"

The screams came from the end of the hall.

Andrew kicked open the slightly ajar door.

Nicole lay bound to the bed, covered in blood, surrounded by recording equipment.

Henry had already violated her.

"Keep screaming and I'll kill you!" Henry raised his hand again.

Andrew lunged, sending Henry flying with a kick.

Seeing Andrew, Nicole's tears overflowed.

Her swollen face twisted as she tried hiding her shame, but the restraints held her fast.

Turning away, she wept: "Andrew, don't look...I'm filthy now...just kill me!"