Chapter 352

The bodyguard's fingers clamped around Tiffany Roscente's shoulder like iron pincers. His knee drove viciously into the back of her legs.

Tiffany let out a muffled groan as she crashed onto the marble floor.

Ever since Zachary Evans had dragged her back to New York, she'd been imprisoned in this lightless basement. Hunger and thirst gnawed at her, pushing her to the brink of madness.

Now, seeing Sophia Lowell, raw hatred burned in her eyes. Her nails dug deep into her palms.

"Uncle!" she shrieked hysterically. "I'm your blood niece! This... this promiscuous woman who sleeps around—how dare she—"

Ethan Roscente rose slowly. The crisp tap of his Oxfords echoed through the chamber.

He leaned down, his whisper venomous as a serpent's hiss. "Guess which will reach the Roscentes first—news of your death, or your corpse?"

Tiffany shuddered violently. Her pupils contracted in shock.

She couldn't believe what she'd just heard.

"I..." Her throat was too parched to form words.

Ethan straightened, looking down at her with icy disdain. "Now. Do you understand what's required?"

Trembling like a leaf in a storm, Tiffany crawled on hands and knees to Sophia's feet.

"Forgive me..." Her forehead pressed against the cold floor. "I was delusional... I overstepped..."

Sophia took half a step back, brows furrowed.

She hadn't expected Ethan to exact revenge on her behalf like this.

Nor had she imagined the haughty Roscente heiress would ever grovel before her like a beaten dog.

Ethan stood beside her, his gaze unfathomably dark.

"Satisfied?" he murmured.