Chapter 457 Of Course, It's to Kill You
Hughes Manor, in the study.
The door was tightly shut.
A single cold lamp sat on the desk, casting a dim yellow glow.
Raymond stood by the window, dressed in a dark green robe that outlined his tall, imposing figure. He gazed out at the falling snow, which started as tiny flakes and gradually turned into larger ones.
A layer of mist formed on the windowpane.
Raymond's face was tense. He couldn't understand why, even though Margaret had returned and was right beside him, he felt even more lonely and oppressed.
He picked up the white bottle of vitamins Margaret had just given him from the desk. He took out three pills and swallowed them.
He couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort and irritation. He raised his wrist, and the scent from his watch wafted to his nose, making him feel somewhat better.
Ever since Margaret came back, he had been inexplicably agitated, unable to control his emotions, and constantly on the verge of anger.
He felt an urge to destroy everything.
The snow fell all night, showing no signs of stopping.
Meantime, Margaret hadn't slept. She watched the dark sky as the first light of dawn appeared.
She needed to tell Raymond the truth. She needed to reveal that she was the real Margaret and expose Sarah's deceitful mask.
As soon as it was light, she got dressed.
She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes swollen from crying.
She applied light makeup, pulled her long, thick black hair behind her ears, and tied it into a bun. Then she put on her snow boots and hurried out the door.
The butler was setting up breakfast in the dining room on the first floor.
Seeing Margaret come downstairs, the butler was surprised. He had thought she would sleep in. He greeted her and asked, "Ms. Hughes, are you heading out?"
"Yeah." Margaret replied quickly and headed for the door.
The butler urged her to have breakfast and offered to arrange a driver for her.
But she was too anxious to eat. She wished she could grow wings and fly to Raymond to tell him everything.
She waved her hand, declining the offer. The butler, seeing he couldn't stop her, let her go.
The greenery in the manor, which had been lush and vibrant just days ago, was now bare. The plants were gone, leaving only brown soil covered with a thick layer of bright white snow.
Margaret was slightly surprised. She couldn't understand why the thriving plants and trees had been removed to plant roses.
Her snow boots crunched on the wet ground as she jogged out of the manor.
She hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of The Hughes Group.
In the car, she kept urging the driver to go faster.
The driver gripped the steering wheel and joked, "Ma'am, I'm already going as fast as I can. We still have to follow traffic rules."
Margaret stopped urging him.
He was right; safety was more important.
"Are you rushing to see your boyfriend?" the driver asked, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.
Her fingers clenched on her lap, her ears turning red, and her cheeks heating up. "Is it that obvious?"
"Not at all," the driver chuckled.
Ten minutes later, the cab pulled up in front of The Hughes Group building. Margaret paid the fare and hopped out, her heart racing with excitement.
She looked up, and snowflakes landed on her cheeks.
On her way to see Raymond, the cold wind on her face didn't hurt. The snow on her body didn't feel cold.
The towering building had a huge promotional photo hanging on it.
The man in the photo had sharp features, dressed in a suit, sitting in a chair. Though his face was expressionless, his demeanor was dignified.
Margaret smiled at the man in the photo and wondered, 'Raymond, I'm here to tell you the truth.'
She crossed the zebra crossing and quickly entered The Hughes Group.
It was work hours, and the company was quiet.
She took the elevator to the executive office.
Walking down the long hallway, which was carpeted in dark patterns and gray tones, she glanced curiously at the office areas on either side. Male employees in suits worked at their desks, while female employees in professional skirts gathered in small groups, discussing project progress in low voices.
Some were on the phone.
Others were typing on keyboards, the sound reminiscent of crunching snow.
Margaret smiled. So this was where Raymond worked — spacious, bright, and orderly.
She reached the executive office door, her fingers touching the cold handle. She was about to see Raymond, and her heart was pounding.
Nervous, yet full of anticipation.
She took a deep breath. "Margaret, don't be nervous, don't be afraid. Inside is the man you love most in this world. Seeing him shouldn't make you nervous." She muttered to herself and pushed the door open.
Margaret stepped inside and was stunned.
Sarah, dressed similarly to her, was lounging on the leather sofa in the executive office, legs crossed, holding a steaming cup of coffee.
Sarah looked up and met Margaret's gaze.
"Since you're here, why not come in?" Sarah smiled warmly.
Margaret turned and closed the office door.
Then she turned back, glaring angrily at Sarah.
Sarah remained seated, not bothering to get up, and asked with a smile, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Where's Raymond? I need to see him." Margaret didn't want to waste time with her. Seeing this vile woman made her blood boil.
Sarah smirked, as if she had heard something amusing. "He's my man. What right do you have to see him? What makes you think you deserve to?"
"Sarah, don't think I don't know you're an imposter! You had Hubert make you look like me to deceive Raymond, didn't you?"
"I'm here to show Raymond your true colors!" Margaret scoffed, clenching her fists.
Sarah narrowed her eyes, gripping her coffee cup tightly. "It seems you know quite a bit."
"Of course. Everything you didn't want me to know, I know. Raymond is the mute boy, right? Sarah, you're utterly ungrateful!" Margaret sneered.
Margaret watched as Sarah suddenly threw her coffee cup, knocking the office camera to the ground.
Then she got up from the sofa, walked to the door, and locked it.
"What are you doing?" Margaret was bewildered.
Sarah gave a sinister smile, grabbed Margaret's neck, and forced her to look into her eyes. "I'm going to kill you, of course."
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