Chapter 132

"Susan!"

Vincent King nearly shattered his molars from clenching his jaw, yet still slammed on the brakes.

This marked the first time in his life he'd yielded to a woman.

The car door had barely cracked open when Susan stumbled out. Her legs gave way, knees buckling as she nearly collapsed, only managing to stay upright by clutching the doorframe.

Vincent followed swiftly, seizing her slender wrist.

"Let go!"

Susan recoiled like a startled rabbit, but the man's iron grip held firm.

His expression darkened, fury roiling in his chest, yet his voice softened. "I'll take you home."

Susan's head snapped up, her damp eyes wide with disbelief.

She offered no further protest, silently withdrawing her hand before sliding back into the car.

The Lamborghini glided through bustling streets. Through the rearview mirror, Vincent watched the pale woman in the backseat, unconsciously easing off the accelerator.

Willow Lane arrived.

When Vincent moved to escort her upstairs, Susan's wary gaze barred him at the threshold. He narrowed his eyes—no matter. His prey would be his eventually.

The key's turn screeched unnaturally loud.

Upon opening the door, Susan froze as if struck by lightning—

Ethan Sullivan's urn lay in shattered ruins!

Sandalwood fragments littered the floor, ashes defiled by fresh spit. Susan trembled violently, nails biting into her palms.

On the table, a saliva-drenched note glared up:

"Dear sister, do you like my gift? Watching you suffer keeps me awake with joy."

The handwriting twisted like venomous serpents.

Susan crushed the paper and hurled it against the wall, hatred surging like a tidal wave in her chest. Gently cradling the ashes, her tears fell onto the grayish powder.

"Nicole..."

From the drawer, she retrieved the prepared sulfuric acid bottle. The knife's edge glinted coldly under the light.

The upscale villa's security recognized this "Capra heiress" and waved her through.

Before ornate European gates, Susan stood with the warming acid bottle. She only needed to wait—for the viper to slither into her trap.

Within half an hour, Nicole approached in clicking stilettos.

"Sister?" Her feigned surprise arched an eyebrow.

Susan wasted no words.

The acid bottle traced a perfect arc through the air, thick liquid flying toward that exquisite face—

"Aaaah!!"

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the night.