Chapter 485

Chapter 485

Greta hesitated for a moment.

The kitchen was on the first floor, while their bedroom was on the second floor.

But the caregiver was in the next room, and the monitors were working normally—surely nothing would happen.

Besides, he had said they would eat together.

So Greta went to the kitchen.

Finding ingredients, washing them, turning on the stove—she occupied herself for over twenty minutes.

When the mushroom soup was simmering on the stove and still needed another twenty or thirty minutes, she felt strangely compelled to go check on him.

Something felt very wrong inside her.

Inexplicably, her legs were shaking as she climbed the stairs, as if something bad was about to happen.

The moment she pushed open the bedroom door, a metallic scent of blood washed over her.

Lucius was slumped against the headboard, a knife stuck in his chest, blood already soaking through his robe.

But his expression was unusually calm, even holding a trace of peace.

"Lucius! No..." Greta's mind went blank. She rushed to the bedside, desperate to pull out the knife but not daring to, finally only able to press the emergency call button.

"Don't... call an ambulance..." Lucius's voice was weak but clear. "Greta... look at me..."

Greta tremblingly cupped his face, tears blurring her vision. "Why... why..."

"This way... dignified..." Lucius's breath hitched and slowed. "I don't want living as a burden,, barely surviving..."

Greta cried out, "I just want you alive! Please..."

Lucius used his last strength to lift his left hand and wipe away his wife's tears. "Let me... die with dignity... don't let me... hate myself..."

The caregiver and servants rushed into the room but were shocked by the scene before them.

Greta shook her head, signaling them not to come closer.

"Everyone out..." Her voice cracked. She was going crazy too, tortured by intense heartbreak. "Let us... be alone for a while..."

Lucius's breathing grew faint. "Forgive me... Greta..."

His arm suddenly dropped, and the heartbeat line on the monitor became a merciless flat line.

Greta's scream echoed through the rain, her desperate voice making everyone tremble.

She held Lucius's still-warm body tightly, as if she could keep him forever.

"Come back... please come back..." She pressed her forehead against her husband's now-still chest. "How can you be so cruel..."

The rain outside grew heavier, beating against the windows in a steady rhythm.

When Amelia and Chris arrived, Greta had already cried herself unconscious on Lucius, still clutching the bloodstained knife.

Amelia gently pried open her sister's fingers then asked someone take the unconscious Greta downstairs for treatment.

She looked at Lucius's peaceful face, and while shedding tears of sadness, she suddenly realized why he had done it.

Rather than let his beloved watch him lose control bit by bit, he chose to to leave his loved one with the best impression while still somewhat dignified.

Chris handled the funeral arrangements after Lucius's death.

He was busy all day, inside and out.

Amelia also searched for Greta all day.

Finally, she found her curled up in the closet of Lucius's sealed room.

Greta had her face buried deep in the gray cashmere coat he used to wear often. The coat still carried a faint scent of aftershave, as if it still held his scent and warmth.

For a day and a night, she hadn't eaten anything and refused to leave this room filled with Lucius's presence.

"Greta..." Amelia gently opened the closet door, holding a bowl of steaming hot porridge. "Have something to drink, okay?"

Greta didn't lift her head, just numbly and emptily held the coat tighter, her knuckles white from the force.

Amelia crouched down and placed the porridge bowl on the floor.

Through the closet gap, she could see her sister's swollen eyelids and chapped lips.

At this moment, Greta looked completely disheveled.

"Mr. Howard wouldn't want to see you like this," Amelia said softly.

These words finally resonated with Greta. She slowly lifted her head, her eyes bloodshot and clouded pain. "Then why didn't he think about what this would do to me?"

She stared stubbornly into Amelia's eyes, as if only Amelia could answer this question.

Amelia reached out to touch her sister's hair, but Greta dodged away.

"Get out." Greta buried her face in the coat again. "Please... get out..."

Amelia sighed and got up to leave.

Before closing the door, she took one last look at the closet. In the dim light, Greta's thin figure almost merged with those expensive clothes, without a trace of life.

Downstairs in the living room, Chris was on the phone arranging funeral matters, his brow furrowed.

Seeing Amelia come down, his eyes relaxed.

"How is she?"

Amelia shook her head. "She still won't come out."

She looked toward the gloomy sky outside the window and sighed deeply. "How are the funeral arrangements coming?"

"Everything's ready, just waiting for Greta..." Chris's words were interrupted by the doorbell.

The maid went to answer it.

Soon a cold, sharp female voice came through:

"Chris, Great-uncle Baldric sent me to see exactly how Uncle Lucius died. I heard he was stabbed!"

Amelia and Chris exchanged a glance and stood up together.

Stella walked in wearing four-inch heels, bringing two people who looked like attorneys with her.

Amelia's voice was cold as ice. "You're not welcome here."

Stella sneered. "This is my uncle's house, not yours. What right do you have to say I'm not welcome? I'm here today on Great-uncle Baldric's orders! That Greta killed him, didn't she? I knew she was no good!"

Amelia stepped forward. "Watch your words. Mr. Howard committed suicide. The medical examiner has already issued a report."

Although Amelia had married Chris, she habitually kept calling Lucius "Mr. Howard" and couldn't change it.

"Suicide?" Stella raised her eyebrows dramatically. "Where would a late-stage ALS patient get the strength to stab a knife into his own heart? Clearly that Greta couldn't stand the hardship of caring for a sick person and killed him!"

"You..." Amelia trembled with anger. "Don't talk nonsense. Greta loved Mr. Howard more than her own life!"

"Love?" Stella pulled out a stack of documents from her briefcase. "If she loved him, would she be rushing to transfer the inheritance the day after his death?" She waved the documents. "Twenty percent of the Spencer Group shares, three overseas properties, and..."

Chris snatched the documents. "These were all arranged by him before he died. Stella, don't make a scene here."

Stella didn't flinch, instead stepping closer. "Chris, how can you help an outsider? That Greta doesn't deserve to inherit the Spencer family assets! Uncle Lucius's property should be returned to the Spencer family!"

"We were legally married. As his wife, inheriting my husband's estate—what's the problem with that?" A hoarse voice came from the stairs.

Everyone turned to look.