Chapter 150 Sending Rachel to Prison! (2)
For a heartbeat, Orla could not comprehend what had just happened.
The girl standing before her in the dim lamplight was slender, almost delicate.
Yet her wrist had been twisted until the bone snapped, the agony searing through her nerves like molten metal. Her face drained of color, sweat breaking across her forehead, and she felt her knees threaten to give way.
She had never imagined Amelia could walk into her locked room in the middle of the night, tearing the handle clean off the door as if it were paper.
She had imagined even less that the girl would say nothing—no warning, no demand—before shattering her wrist with a single, merciless motion.
Was this something a normal high school girl could do? Or had Amelia stepped beyond the boundaries of human?
"I will let go," Amelia said, her voice cold as a blade, stripped of any emotion. "If you make a sound, I will break your other wrist. Do you understand?"
The chill in her tone cut deeper than the pain. Orla, trembling despite the fire in her nerves, forced herself to nod. "I understand," she managed, each word pushed out through clenched teeth.
Amelia released her grip from Orla's mouth.
Her expression was pure disdain, no effort to hide it.
"Miss Martinez, what are you doing in my room at this hour?" Orla's voice shook as she cradled her injured wrist, tears spilling freely. "What have I done to deserve this? Why would you come in here and do this to me?"
Her face was a perfect mask of terror, wounded innocence, and helplessness—like an actress delivering her finest performance.
Amelia almost laughed.
"You know exactly what you have done," she said, her gaze locking on Orla's eyes.
That gaze was so cold that Orla shivered involuntarily.
She knew Amelia meant tonight's events. But she would never admit it. Her tone was all confusion, all pleading. "Miss, I don't know what you are talking about. I don't understand."
Amelia had no patience for the act. "When the chandelier exploded and the lights went out, where were you?"
"When Kevin called for you, why did you not respond immediately? Why did it take so long for you to bring the emergency lamp?"
"The chandelier explosion and blackout?" Orla feigned thought, then replied, "Miss, I was in the bathroom at the time, so I did not hear Mr. Kevin Martinez call for me. When I did hear him, I went straight to get the lamp."
She lifted tear-filled eyes to Amelia. "Miss, why are you asking me this? You cannot think the explosion and Mr. Ryan Martinez's episode had anything to do with me. I am innocent… completely innocent!"
Her voice rose. "If you suspect me, call Mr. Kevin Martinez and the others to confront me. If there is evidence, do what you will. But right now there is nothing—no proof—and you come into my room in the middle of the night to break my wrist? Is this something a human would do?"
Bathroom. A flawless excuse.
Amelia did not believe it. She had not come here to listen to a sob story.
In the next instant, she seized Orla by the hair and dragged her to the wall.
"Orla, you know exactly what happened tonight."
"You say breaking your wrist is not something a human would do?" Amelia's eyes narrowed. "Then let me tell you… I am not human."
"I trust my instincts more than I trust evidence."
"From now on, you had better tell me everything."
"You can refuse to confess—but I can beat you until you die."
"And when you die, I will make you vanish from the Martinez family. The police will never find even a shadow of you."
Beat her to death? Make her vanish? Leave no trace for the police?
Orla's first instinct was disbelief—how could a high school girl possibly do such things?
But disbelief lasted only a second.
"Did you lock Ryan's door?" Amelia asked.
"No…" The word had barely left her lips before Amelia slammed her head into the wall.
The dull crack was followed by a rush of blood from Orla's nose.
Amelia's expression did not change. "Did you lock Ryan's door?"
Her mind fogged from the impact, but she could not admit it—admission would be the end.
"No…" Again, the word was cut short by another brutal blow, splitting the skin on her forehead.
"Don't kill me… Miss… please… I didn't do anything!" Orla wailed, trying to crawl toward the door. Amelia dragged her back without hesitation.
Squatting down, Amelia gripped her hair and spoke in a low, icy voice. "Orla, there are two things you should remember."
"First, two nights ago, you poisoned Ryan's juice for Rachel. Even if tonight had nothing to do with you, killing you would be no loss."
"Second, you think you can refuse to confess because there is no evidence. But my cat's nose… is sharper than you imagine."
Blood streaked Orla's face. Her pupils widened.
The juice—how could Amelia know? And the cat's nose… could it be…
The answer came in the form of a small black cat stepping from the shadows, a remote control clamped in its teeth. It padded to Amelia, dropped the device into her palm, then nudged her hand with a soft purr, eyes half-closed in satisfaction.
Amelia stroked Shadow's head. "You are perfect," she murmured.
Then she rose.
Left hand gripping the remote, right hand clutching Orla's collar, she dragged her into the living room.
The servants, hearing the commotion, hurried to summon Kevin and the others at Amelia's command.
By now, the detonator for the chandelier's micro-bomb was in her possession. Amelia clearly intended a public confrontation.
Orla still planned to deny everything. She had already formed her excuse: it was a remote for a massage device, long since broken. Who could prove it controlled a bomb?
But before anyone else arrived, Amelia crouched beside her and whispered a single sentence into her ear.
The words froze Orla where she sat. Her body began to shake uncontrollably.
Kevin, Chris, Jenny, and Tobias entered the living room to find Orla bloodied and collapsed on the floor. All four stopped in shock.
Kevin drew in a sharp breath. "What… happened here?"
"Mr. Kevin Martinez… it was all me!" Orla cried, dropping to her knees. "I planted the bomb in the chandelier! I detonated it after I saw Mr. Ryan Martinez go into his room! I locked his door!"
The room fell silent.
Jenny's eyes widened. "Orla, what are you saying?!"
"It was all me! But… Ms. Rachel Martinez told me to do it!"
She lifted a trembling hand and pointed directly at Rachel, who had just descended the stairs. "I did not want to hurt Mr. Ryan Martinez or Ms. Amelia Martinez! She gave me five hundred thousand to make it happen!"
Rachel had reached the final step when the words hit her. Her knees almost buckled, and for a moment she nearly tumbled down onto the marble floor.