Chapter500 Avenging Martin
Patricia couldn't fathom what Charlotte had in mind. She had been locked in this room, and after an initial encounter on the first day, Charlotte had become a ghost—there was no further communication between them.
She was still immersed in the sorrow of losing Martin.
Days blurred by, undefined.
The door, always locked, was suddenly kicked open from the outside. Startled by the noise, Patricia instinctively looked toward the entrance.
Hunter burst in, and upon seeing her, rushed over and enveloped her in his arms, his hands trembling slightly. “You’re safe. Thank God!”
Patricia stood numbly in his embrace, momentarily doubting reality, thinking it to be a dream.
Noticing her silence, Hunter released her, holding her face in his hands, and asked urgently, “What’s wrong? Why aren't you speaking? Did Charlotte hurt you?”
Patricia remained mute, her gaze fixed on Hunter as Charlotte's words echoing in her head.
“I saw Hunter kill him. All his bones must be shattered by now! His insides are probably rotten!”
Hunter had killed Martin.
Hunter had killed Martin.
Hunter had killed Martin.
These words replayed over and again in Patricia's mind, tormenting her persistently.
Seeing her silence, Hunter grew frantic, assessing her condition and flipping over. “Did Charlotte do something to you? That witch, she didn’t die when she should have. It’s unbelievable that she survived and nearly hurt you.”
Patricia looked at Hunter. She had always known Hunter to be ruthless. Not only had he been relentless with Martin, but he seemed just as unforgiving towards Charlotte, who had loyally served him. Was there indeed no shred of compassion or humanity in him?
Disgusted, Patricia pushed him away, refusing his touch. “How did you know I was here?”
She had reason to believe this was all an act staged between Hunter and Charlotte. A kidnapping and a hero's rescue. He just wanted her to feel indebted to him. As to why Charlotte disclosed that Hunter had killed Martin, it might have been out of dissatisfaction or perhaps to get back at her—
Hunter's brows knitted tightly together. "That wretch, Charlotte, threatening me with you, hoping I'd marry her! It took me a long time to find you."
Unaware of the turmoil in Patricia's thoughts, Hunter lifted her from the bed and strode purposefully towards the door. "Patricia, how did you end up here?"
No matter how much he prodded, Patricia didn't utter another word. She closed her eyes, the picture of exhaustion.
Seeing her unwillingness to talk, Hunter stopped asking questions. He carried her to the black SUV parked outside and instructed the driver to head to the hospital for a thorough medical check-up to ensure she was okay. Only then did he take Patricia back home—to Hawthorn Hill, where she had lived before. Her room was just as she had left it.
Patricia looked pale, so Hunter had the kitchen prepare a nourishing soup and bring it to her.
Patricia didn't drink the soup; instead, she stared straight at him. "Where's Charlotte?"
She meant to ask if he had killed Martin, but when the words reached her lips, she changed the question.
The mention of Charlotte caused Hunter's previously calm expression to darken, his lips pressing into a thin line before he finally ground out through clenched teeth, “Let's not talk about her; it's bad luck.”
Patricia scoffed. "How did Charlotte become like that? She said you were going to kill her. Is that true?"
After being taken to Country M last time, she and Hunter had never talked about Charlotte. But not talking about her did not mean she didn't exist. This was also the first time Patricia had brought up Charlotte.
Hunter had never intended to speak of that unfortunate person before Patricia, but he didn’t plan on hiding anything when she inquired. His eyes betrayed disdain and loathing for Charlotte. “People of no use get sent where they belong.”
Even though Patricia had already heard it from Charlotte, hearing Hunter say it sent a chill through her bones. “A life is at stake. How can you speak so indifferently about it?”
“I don't care about anyone but you!” Hunter said, scooping up a spoonful of soup. “Sweetheart, have some soup. You look pale; you need to get your strength up.”
Patricia had no appetite and pushed his hand away, pressing again, “Where's Charlotte?”
“Dead."
Patricia’s heart sank, her body feeling as if it were submerged in icy water, cold to the core. “Did you kill her?”
Hunter remained silent; his lack of response spoke volumes.
“You killed her twice?” Patricia said, trembling with rage.
It wasn’t Charlotte’s death that enraged her but Hunter’s callous disregard for human life, treating people as expendable. It was because of this that he ruthlessly killed Martin.
“If she had stayed hidden, not daring to cross my path again, I wouldn’t have touched her. But she dared to threaten your life! She knew you’re what I value most. I can take anything, but I'll never let anyone hurt you. Anyone who dares to harm you won’t get away with it,” Hunter stated nonchalantly.
Patricia shouted, “Don’t use me as an excuse for your murders! You’re inherently malicious, a devil to the core. To achieve your goals, you'd kill anyone. Children, the elderly, even those who love you; you would slay them without a second thought.”
Her twins, Isabella, Martin, and poor Charlotte, who loved him so deeply and would forsake her own life.
He would ruthlessly eliminate anyone who stood in his way.
Unfazed by her words, Hunter presented the soup to her once more, a tender smile on his face. “Honey, let’s not fight over irrelevant people. Eat something. Charlotte hasn’t given you anything to eat these days, right?”
Patricia glared at him furiously as if she could bore holes into him with her eyes. Then, she snatched the bowl from his hands and began devouring the soup.
She had to hold back; she needed to avenge Martin. Only by regaining her strength would she be able to exact her revenge upon Hunter for Martin's sake.
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