Revenge Of The Jilted Bride

Jilted Bride 5

Chapter 5

Karen sniffled, her expression pitiful as she turned her teary eyes towards Kenneth. "Mr. Kenneth, Miss Ophelia treats us maids like we weren't even human. Whenever something displeases her, she takes it out on us. You must help us" Kenneth sat in his wheelchair like a king on a throne, the smooth twist of his long fingers playing with the ring on his pinky. There was something about him that was oppressive, almost suffocating to look at.

From the moment he entered, his sharp gaze was glued to Ophelia. She stood there, her nose a bit red, looking strangely vulnerable. He thought to himself. Wasn't she just fierce a moment ago? Is she scared now

He chuckled darkly. "You've got me to back you up, so why bother getting your hands dirty yourself?"

The words left his mouth, and Karen froze, her face draining of color. She blinked, completely dumbfounded, as if she had misheard him.

Kenneth's voice was casual, like he was discussing the weather, but the words sent a chill through Karen's spine. "Cut off her tongue and feed it to the fish in the pond."

"Mr. Kenneth. no... I was wrong. I'm so sorry. Please, have mercy on me." Karen stammered, panic creeping into her voice.

Without hesitation. Mark, Kenneth's right-hand man, shot a glance at the bodyguards. They immediately grabbed Karen by the arms and began to drag her away.

"Mr. Kenneth. please... Karen's screams grew fainter until they disappeared entirely. The other servants stood trembling, pale as ghosts, their eyes wide in terror.

Kenneth's gaze remained cold and imperious. "Anyone else?" he asked, his tone leaving no room for argument, like an overprotective father about to stand up for his child

Ophelia glanced at the remaining maids, her stare like that of a predator eyeing its prey. As soon as they caught her gaze, the young maids' legs gave out, and they dropped to their knees, trembling uncontrollably: "Miss Ophelia, this is all a huge misunderstanding. It was all Karen. We didn't do anything.....

"I don't need this many people around." Ophelia said calmly, her gaze directed at Mark. "Let them all go

Mark raised an eyebrow and looked to Kenneth for confirmation. Kenneth gave the smallest nod, his expression unreadable. but it was enough.

"As you wish," Mark replied and took the hint, slipping out of the room quietly.

Now alone, the dining room felt much more intimate, the silence between Ophelia and Kenneth charged with unspoken tension. Ophelia's eyes lingered on Kenneth, her thoughts muddled. She had no idea when he had fallen in love with her in her last life, to the point of dying for her.

Yet this version of Kenneth, so cold and ruthless, had made her uneasy back then. She had feared him so much in the past. But not anymore. Now, she only wanted to make things right with him, no matter what it took

Kenneth's voice broke through her thoughts, low and subtle. "So willing to marry a cripple?"

joke: She remembered all too well the nights from her last life when he had held her down, ravaging her

once already, she might've actually believed

marry willingly? Would you let

a beat, his answer coming almost

I thought. Ophelia mused, a wry smile tugging at her lips, mischievous like a fox that had just outsmarted a hunter "Well then, let me introduce myself properly. Im Ophelia Spencer Age

before Kenneth's deep, gravelly voice responded, "Kenneth Sinclair. Age twenty-five.

Chapter 3

to set the air on fire. It was as if he could

eternity, the tension between them thick enough to slice with a knife. Finally, Kenneth's lips quirked

her dared to hold his gaze like she

"Are y

me?" Kenneth asked, his tone laced with

name Kenneth Sinclair wasn't just any name. In Heloria, it was synonymous with power, wealth, and danger. Everyone. knew what it

much about him in her last life, it was only later, through Emily, that

country's economy, dominating land, sea, and air transport. A flick of his wrist could send shockwaves

running in fear. But now, as Ophelia

a brow, her gaze sharp yet playful as she teased, "Should I be afraid of you? Her lips curved into a daring smirk. "You're

flickering with both curiosity and mischief. If Kenneth was expecting anything less from her, he was sorely mistaken-she knew exactly how

move. His gaze bore

hand in his, feeling

bones if he wanted-before releasing her, leaving

note, his lips

mused inwardly, rolling her eyes. She had almost forgotten just

gorgeous face. "Mr.. Sinclair," she began, her voice sweet yet challenging, "are you going to stay in that wheelchair forever in front of me Kenneth's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing

knowing grin. "you were walking perfectly fine. In fact, you were

day would fool me? She could still remember that same fresh, woodsy scent clinging

rose from the wheelchair, towering over her like a looming shadow. Six feet three tall, he cast a heavy presence, the air around them thick with his dominance. His sudden movement confirmed what she already knew-he'd been faking it. He had returned the other day only to

two fingers, his voice icy as he murmured. "Aren't you afraid

yours too?

defiant and unwavering, locked onto his, the faint mole beneath her eye only adding to the fierce beauty of her expression. She was testing