Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom

Chapter 448

**Bedroom.**

Yvonne lay sprawled in a pool of blood, her legs slashed multiple times by Sean, blood streaming down her skin.

Tiny, cold-eyed Sean stood over her, looming with a detached air. He showed no reaction to the grisly scene-calmly, he pulled a spotless white handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe the blood from his knife, stroke by unhurried stroke.

"Shut up. You're too loud."

At his icy command, Yvonne's screams were cut off instantly. Even though the pain in her legs was excruciating-so intense it brought tears streaming down her face-she didn't dare make another sound.

Once the blade was clean, Sean tossed the bloodstained handkerchief onto Yvonne's face.

"This is just a little warning. If you ever lay a finger on her again, I promise the knife won't go into your legs next time. It'll go into your throat."

Terror flickered in Yvonne's eyes.

She seethed with hatred-how could the Foster family have raised a monster like Sean? He was just a child, yet he acted with such terrifying boldness. What was worse, he knew exactly how far he could go and never crossed the line of the law. That was why he was so fearless.

Gritting her teeth, Yvonne tried to summon some courage. "Aren't you afraid she'll find out how much of a little psycho you are? That girl is so naïve-if she ever saw this side of you, do you think she'd still want to play with you?"

laugh. "Sean, I can't wait for the day she

murderous glint in Sean's eyes

so sweet, so soft and innocent-he'd never let her see his true nature.

as whisper a word to

mouth shut,

lunatic, a true psychopath-and he

a cold laugh, Sean left Yvonne's bedroom, knife still

his own room, he stood by the window, staring out at the bright city lights, lost in

long moment passed before his bedroom door was thrown

think you are, raising a hand against your own mother?" The voice thundered with fury. You're out of control. I swear, I'll beat some

Sean's father,

raised to strike. But Sean stood utterly unfazed, and

down, I promise you'll lose

his face flushing red, then turning pale with rage.

a reflection of his father. If I'm disrespectful, isn't that your

finger trembling as he pointed

narrowed his eyes. "If you're done,

rotten to the core at your age-what will you become when you grow up? Probably a murderer. I'm done with