The Jilted Heiress' Return To The High Life

Chapter 1146:

Ralph, witnessing the spectacle, remained eerily stoic, though an icy aura rippled around him like a blizzard threatening to consume the room. “Andromache, let go!” His voice, deep and commanding, cut through the chaos like a blade through silk.

But blinded by her own wrath, Andromache didn’t heed the warning, instead tightening her hold, her expression a macabre dance of hatred and lunacy. “If you’re trying to ruin me, Corrine,” she hissed, “then let’s rot in hell together!”

The onlookers exchanged knowing glances, the realization dawning that Andromache had signed her own death warrant.

Boom.

Suddenly, a gunshot shattered the air, and a spray of blood erupted from Andromache’s shoulder.

The crowd recoiled in shock, their eyes tracking the source of the gunfire—Nate stood at the doorway, his expression as cold and unyielding as stone.

Andromache to release her grip, clutching her bleeding shoulder as she staggered

moved in a flash, seizing her by the neck, his fury radiating like a storm. He whispered icily,

was deceptively calm, each word laced with the promise of

would abandon kinship without a second thought

rendered powerless, fear pooling in her eyes as

lips moved soundlessly, pleading,

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his brows furrowed, fought to maintain his composure before striding

Andromache’s neck tightening like a noose

with a glint of defiance dancing in his eyes—a wordless declaration that the boy

the crowd like the slow, inevitable rise of the sun—provoking Nate would invite a punishment far more ruthless than the fate