Eight Years Lost A Love Unclaimed (Ariella)
Chapter 86

BOOK8 Chapter9

Amelia, still exuding confidence, took Michael's hand and said: "Michael, I know you love me, but not everyone who resembles me is really me. You already have me. There's no need for this imitation. I can meet all your needs."

She added with a hint of condescension: "That woman probably won't survive. I'll forgive you this time, but let's move forward properly. Just don't let me down again."

Amelia believed she had spoken with grace and reason, expecting Michael to be moved.

Instead, his expression darkened further, his gaze becoming icy.

He replied coldly: "Amelia, there's something I should have told you earlier. Olivia is my true love and my wife."

Michael's quiet declaration hit Amelia like a blow, leaving her stunned and collapsing to the ground.

At that moment, I lost consciousness completely.

In the hospital, Michael arranged for top medical experts to treat my injuries, including stitching up my tongue.

After several days in a coma, I woke up and spent two more weeks recovering before being discharged.

Michael brought me back to the villa. Inside, Amelia, her bodyguards, and the guards were disheveled, bound, and waiting like prisoners.

They were filthy and reeked. Seeing me, their defeated expressions brightened with a glimmer of hope, as if they saw a chance for redemption.

One of Amelia's bodyguards pleaded urgently: "Mrs. Jackson, we didn't know who you were, which is why we acted as we did. We genuinely had no idea-please let us go!"

It seemed like a plea for forgiveness but was really an attempt to shift the blame.

My expression remained icy as I replied: "You didn't know my identity? I repeatedly stated who I was that day and even asked you to verify it. Yet you didn't believe me and had my tongue cut out. You were arrogant then. Now that you've been caught, are you too frightened to admit it?"

My words were sharp, my gaze unyielding.

The man turned pale, unable to offer

further excuses. The other bodyguards, seeing my resolve, panicked and began shouting: "This is all a misunderstanding! If we had known you were Mrs. Jackson, we would never have touched you!"

"You're out of the hospital now, fully recovered. There's no need to pursue this further!" "We've been locked up for over ten days. You're fine now, so let's not escalate things!"

Their pleas were insincere, as if they were the victims and I the aggressor.

Seeing through their pretense, I responded coldly: "When you

punished me, you were ruthlenet

nearly killed me. Now you say there's no need to escalate?"

Amelia turned to Michael, feigning sincerity and shedding a few tears: "Michael, I did this out of love for you. I was so afraid of losing you that I acted this way. You can't punish me for this!"

She addressed Michael directly, knowing he had always favored her and that I disliked her.

But Michael's expression remained cold, his voice chilling: "You hurt my wife, and now you think you can escape punishment?"

He then turned to me and asked quietly: "This might get messy. Do you want to step aside?"

Normally, I would have hesitated to see Michael resort to violence on my behalf.

But this time, I replied firmly: "No, it's fine.

Michael nodded, then drew a dagger with grim resolve. He approached Amelia's bodyguards, his intent clear. "No, please..."

"Ah!"

One by one, they fell amid their screams.

The deaths grew increasingly brutal. A chilling wind swept through, and the stench of blood filled the air.

Amelia was the only one left, trembling among the fallen bodies.