Chapter 222 She Brought This on Herself
"He said if you're alive, I can get five hundred million dollars, but if you're dead, I won't get a cent!"
Amelia's lips curved slightly, revealing what she thought was a sweet smile, but with her face, it was utterly terrifying.
"I think he cares about you!"
The revelation about Francis's motives left Harper dumbfounded, a mix of shock and disbelief clouding her thoughts.
Amelia continued, "I used to think Francis liked Chloe, but looks like you stole the thunder, you manipulative piece of work. Chloe had me fooled, making me think she was the golden ticket to power and influence in the Getty family. I just didn't expect that even Chloe, Francis's first love, couldn't beat you."
The mention of Chloe jolted Harper's memory. "So, Chloe was in on my kidnapping?"
She had always suspected it, but Chloe had never admitted it, and Amelia had disappeared. The matter was dropped after Chloe was sent to a mental hospital.
Now, after Amelia mentioned it again, Harper's eyes filled with blood, and she said harshly, "Did you two conspire to kill my child?"
In Amelia's eyes, Harper was as good as dead now. So she told her openly, "Chloe gave me money and told me where you were. That's they found you. Her kidnapping was staged to buy time for me to kill you! But..."
Amelia paused, looking at Harper with disdain. "Even if I tell you all about it, Chloe has done nothing directly. What can you do to her?"
Amelia also hated Chloe. If it weren't for her, Francis wouldn't have hunted her, and she wouldn't have met that perverted fisherman and been tortured like this!
She had become this monstrous figure, and everyone was responsible!
The more Amelia dwelled on it, the more her expression twisted into pure fury. "This is all on you! I was once a perfectly fine heiress with a beautiful face!"
She'd dropped serious cash to sculpt that visage just right. She could've owned the damn world with that face, but now it was all shot to hell.
Dishing out bucks for consultations proved useless—no amount of dough could fix her face now. Her lady bits were also a debacle beyond repair, too much time gone by for any remedy.
Survival didn't mean jack to her. Tonight, she was going all in, risking it all. Win, she'd walk away with the cash; lose, they'd all be six feet under.
Even in death, she wanted Harper and Francis in her twisted fate.
Harper eyed Amelia cautiously. She know the woman in front of her was teetering on the brink of insanity.
She cautioned, "Amelia, I'm telling you, don't go down this road again. Cut me loose now, and there's still a shot. Screw up big time, and there's no coming back from that!"
"Cut you loose? Like hell!" Amelia cackled madly, her tone gravelly and bone-chilling. "Don't fret. I'll set you free, but it'll be straight to hell, where Francis can keep you company!"
Harper paled. Amelia was off the rails, no doubt.
Stuffing a cloth into Harper's mouth, Amelia whipped out a custom phone for a video call. "Let's see where Mr. Getty is hanging out, shall we?"
The video connected, revealing Francis, his demeanor unchanged from earlier, his hair slightly tousled.
In the frame, there was no sign of Harper. He nudged a bag with his foot and uttered icily, "Amelia, I'm nearly at the spot you specified with the cash you demanded!"
"Wow, Francis, speedy Gonzales over here!"
"I'll hand over the dough, and you release her," Francis stated bluntly.
"Sure thing, it's been a minute, and I kinda miss you, but..." A sinister grin crept across Amelia's lips. "I doubt I can outsmart you."
With a patient tone, Francis inquired, "What's your deal?"
"Slit yourself twice with a blade, then I'll spill the beans on our location. You roll in solo."
A chilly smirk spread across Francis's face as he brought a woman into view before the camera. "Amelia, is your mom's life and this package of money enough to sway you?"
Linda was forcibly positioned in front, disheveled, bruised, and clearly mistreated.
Tears streamed down her face as she implored, "Amelia, don't be foolish! Francis swore if you let her go, no cops would be called. We can take the cash and runaway to another country. Don't do something dumb!"
Amelia gazed at Linda, absent of warmth, just disdain for the estranged figure before her.
"Think you can use Linda to scare me, Francis? I couldn't give a damn what you do to her!"
"Is that so?" Francis replied calmly. "Then toss her out."
Ejecting Linda at that speed meant practically sealing her fate.
Linda cried out, "Amelia, how could you? I'm your mother! How can you watch me perish like this?"
Amelia's outburst hit the screen, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this mess! Why didn't you snag a wealthier man? You picked a wimp, and when things got tough, he tossed me aside. Your incompetence made him shun us! If I had a choice, I'd never pick a useless mother like you!"
Linda was left speechless, crushed. The vitriol her daughter spewed, the indifference to her life—it blindsided her.
Amelia was innately self-centered, placing no value on kin but rather on personal gain. She raged on, "This mess is all because of you!"
Linda crumpled to the floor, her heart chilled. Francis sneered, "You brought this on youself!"
Had Linda not turned a blind eye to Amelia's evil deeds, how could this debacle have transpired?
As he geared up to cast Linda out of the vehicle, the camera shook, focusing on Harper.
"Francis, being fam and all, you got sixty seconds to simmer on it, cool?"
Harper's eyes teared up, fixed on Francis through the digital display. In the dead of night, his striking silhouette stood out, a mix of tension and fear clouding his usual steely countenance.
Francis, typically fearless, now displayed hints of unease and dread. A bitter tang pricked Harper’s senses, her heart heavy with injustice. His persistence made her feel not entirely abandoned in the world.
In turn, Francis's brows furrowed deep, his eyes aflame with unruly anger. His gaze locked on the figure on the screen. If fury could transcend the digital divide, Amelia would've faced instant demise.
His fists clenched, eyes pained as he peered at Harper's pallid face. Words failed him, for his sole solace lay in rescuing her.
Off-screen, Amelia's voice pierced the tense moment, "Francis, final countdown, five, four, three, two, one!"
As the countdown reached its end, Francis remained motionless.
"Looks like you're not game for my terms, so let me show you?"
In a sudden frenzy, Amelia thrust the blade, piercing Harper's leg.
"Stop!" Francis’s chilling order rang out.
Then, the sickening sound of steel cutting flesh, the knife buried deep in Francis's thigh.
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