Billionaire Is 394

Chapter 394 Seventy-two Hours

Chapter 394 Seventy-two Hours"

After hearing the entire story, I was quiet for a long time.

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I had gone to the Sanders intentionally, hoping Josh would tell me the truth about the Carlyns. The moment I mentioned the name Carlyn, I saw his reaction. He knew the name but pretended not to.

It was clear he was hiding something-he didn't want to be exposed.

Now I understood why Anna-no, Wisteria-had such a deep grudge against Penelope. It wasn't just cruelty. It was personal.

It felt like a twist of fate.

My grandmother had lifted the Sanders to heights they didn't deserve, and now her descendants were too ordinary to hold onto that legacy. The Sanders couldn't even maintain their wealth for three generations.

And Whitney-she had followed in the footsteps of the Carlyn matriarch, locked away in a basement by Taylor, just as a prisoner would be.

This was the universe's way of meting out justice for the victims.

My death was tragic, yes, but so was the story of the Carlyns.

The matriarch of the Carlyns had been reduced to a pawn, simply because she was beautiful. In that chaotic era, others used her, treating her worse than an object.

Penelope had caused the death of the Carlyns, and now the Sanders had to pay for the lives they ruined. It was a cycle.

"I'm sorry, I muttered, my head lowering

"Chloe, do you know what we've been through all these years?" Yael's voice was heavy with bitterness. "My father and my uncle lost their minds. They lived every day in pain over the people they lost. As long as we're alive, we can't forget the hatred. As long as the Sanders live, the Carlyns can never have peace

Yael squatted in front of me, his finger brushing my check. "We've already put everyone in the Sanders family on our list. I understand you more than you understand yourself. From the moment you switched your sister's fate, our revenge on the Sanders began. But they're lucky. That old woman still has one life. left, hidden by you, and your parents... Greg is still alive, too."

"You can rest easy. Soon, they'll join the old man. A family should be together-right? Before they die, I'll make sure they know the truth-how they killed their own daughter for an imposter. They shall die in regret."

"You've already died once. I won't hurt you again. All you need to do is stand by my side and watch the Sanders' fall

His eyes locked onto mine, arid for a moment, I had no words.

If what he said was true, the Sanders were responsible. But what about me? Could I truly call myself innocent?

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Chapter 394 Seventy-two Hours

who died? Weren't

its

sense now-Wisteria, the Carlyn brothers-they weren't right in the

cast a long shadow over their family, year after year, day after

his black bag and pulled out gold candles and some

preparing for the climb-water, food, But no,

lit up the candles and sprinkled the power

you see? The Sanders have

powder danced in the

body was gone, Chloe's spirit remained. Yael was filled with hatred for

dare provoke him, so I stayed kneeling, my head lowered in

created a pyre, the flames growing

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old hag only has one breath

on the plaque showed two young faces-probably only

delicate beauty were unmistakable. Thinking of their tragic end, I couldn't figure out how to judge the Sanders for what

Grandma was a monster, unforgivable. To me, she was the only grandparent who

long learned that people aren't easily defined. There's no simple label

couldn't bring myself to see

So, I stayed kneeling.

price the Sanders owed

as Yael stood up and looked down at me. "Chloe, I know you're not to blame, but your sin is to be born to the Sanders. Your grandmother's debt? You'll pay for it. I don't want your life, just your kneeling until the candles burn out. Then, the hatred between

at least three days and nights to burn completely. He intended for me to

choice. "Alright. I'll

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Thu Dec 14

Chapter 394 Seventy-two Hours

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"Do you feel wronged? My grandfather was on his knees the same way you are, pleading with him to spare my grandmother. He spoke the words, but

feel wronged. This is what the Sanders owe

to anger him-not with my words or my actions. The situation required me

patient.

peace. He lived in torment every day, and by 39, he died of

Tm sorry."

turned and walked

We were in the Carlyn family cemetery, and there could be hidden cameras. If

as he left, a deep fear settled in my

unsettling sounds from the distance the hiss of snakes slithering through the grass and climbing the branches of

chill straight to my

just to be safe. I couldn't afford to take any chances. One wrong move

an hour passed, and the

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