Chapter 117 She Is My Wife
A scream tore through the air from the direction of the entrance.
"Alexander!"
Alexander froze. The sound of his name stopped him cold. He turned his head slowly, disbelief washing over his features as he searched for the source.
Isabella froze, as if jolted by a sudden shock. She forgot about the gun pressed to her skull. Her eyes snapped toward the doorway.
A figure clung to the doorframe—thin, battered, swaying on her feet like she might collapse at any second.
Caroline.
Alexander's gaze swept over her in an instant.
She looked as if she'd just been pulled from the water. Her clothes were mostly dry now, but her hair still hung damp against her shoulders. Her bare legs were covered in scrapes, some shallow, some deep. Dried blood streaked her calves in dark, crusted trails.
Blood seeped fresh from a wound at her neck, soaking into her collar.
"Mrs. Hamilton! Slow down, please!" Kenna came rushing up behind her, breathless, catching Caroline's arm as she stumbled.
Kenna lifted her head and took in the scene inside the living room. Her eyes went wide—Alexander, the gun, Isabella on her knees. She sucked in a sharp breath.
She dropped her gaze quickly, words tumbling out in a rush. "Mr. Hamilton, Mrs. Hamilton just got back to Ravenwood Manor on her own. When she heard you'd come to the Neville Mansion, she panicked. She wouldn't change her clothes, wouldn't let me treat her wounds. She insisted on coming here. I couldn't stop her…"
But Caroline wasn't listening. Her eyes had already found him—that tall, broad-shouldered silhouette across the room.
"Darling…"
The word came out broken, barely a whisper.
Then she shoved Kenna's hand away and lurched forward.
"Darling!"
Alexander's mind went blank. Instinct took over. He pulled the gun away from Isabella's head and shoved it at Liam. He stepped forward, arms opening just as Caroline crashed into him. He caught her. Held her tight.
"Darling, I knew… I knew you'd come for me… I knew…"
Caroline clutched at the lapels of his suit, buried her face in his chest, and sobbed.
Alexander stood there, stiff, holding her. He looked down at the top of her head.
Not a hallucination.
She was real. She was here.
Something clicked in his mind. Panic flared. He cupped her face in his hands, tilting it up, scanning her body with frantic eyes.
Her wrists were torn open—deep grooves where something had cut into the skin, down to the bone. The wounds were still bleeding.
Her legs and knees were scraped raw. Bits of gravel were embedded in the torn flesh.
The back of her neck had a jagged gash, the kind left by blunt force—something heavy had struck her there.
His eyes narrowed sharply. He whipped his head toward Isabella.
Isabella had been staring at Caroline since the moment she appeared. Her face was pale. Her eyes wide with terror, like she'd seen a ghost.
A few seconds of silence passed. Then reality seemed to crash back into her.
"You… you're supposed to be dead! You were supposed to… they were supposed to cut off your head and throw you in the ocean!"
At the same moment, the bodyguard Alexander had kicked earlier groaned and stirred. His eyes fluttered open. He saw Caroline—bloodied—in Alexander's arms.
He screamed.
"Ghost!"
He scrambled backward on all fours, slammed into an overturned side table, and collapsed into unconsciousness again.
The scream snapped Isabella fully awake.
She understood now. Those idiots hadn't done what they'd reported. They hadn't finished the job. This woman had escaped.
She looked at Alexander's face—cold, dark, furious.
Her heart hammered in her chest. She started backing away, voice rising to a shriek. "Alexander! Listen to me! I did this for Edith! To avenge her! This woman killed Edith! She deserved to…"
"Shut up!"
Alexander's roar cut through her words like a blade. At the same time, he covered Caroline's ears with his hands.
Caroline shifted slightly in his arms, like she wanted to look up.
Alexander sucked in a breath, forcing the rage back down.
He turned to Liam. "Get her out of here."
Caroline heard him. She knew he meant her. She grabbed his jacket tighter, shaking her head through her tears. She wouldn't let go.
Alexander pushed gently at her shoulders.
"Go outside!"
His voice was too loud, too sharp. Caroline flinched, her shoulders curling inward.
Alexander caught himself. He exhaled slowly, his tone softening.
"Just… go outside." He reached up and brushed a strand of wet hair from her forehead. The gesture was so gentle it surprised even him.
"I'll handle this. I promise."
He glanced at Liam and Kenna. They understood.
They moved in on either side of Caroline, each taking an arm.
"Mrs. Hamilton, let's step out. Let Mr. Hamilton take care of things here." Kenna's voice was low and soothing as they half-carried, half-guided her toward the door.
Caroline tried to resist, but she had no strength left. She let them lead her out of the main hall.
The heavy doors shut behind them.
Alexander stood still for a moment, head bowed, eyes closed, breathing deep.
A few seconds later, he opened his eyes. The warmth was gone. What remained was cold—deep, bottomless.
He turned and walked toward Isabella. She looked like death itself. He crouched down in front of her, meeting her eyes head-on.
"So. You lured her away from Ravenwood Manor. You ordered your men to cut off her head. Is that right?"
Isabella kept backing up, her voice shaking. "Alexander! Listen to me! Don't let her fool you! She's been lying since she was a child! Always competing with Edith, always trying to take what was hers! Even now, even after Edith's gone, she won't stop! She's faking it! She's playing the victim to manipulate you! You can't fall for it!"
Alexander rose slowly to his feet. His left hand moved to the ring on his pinky finger, turning it absently.
"Mrs. Neville," he said, his voice flat and cold. "I think you're forgetting something."
He looked down at her.
"Caroline is my wife first. Whatever else you think she is… that comes second."