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Chapter 224: Father and Daughter Face Off
Last Updated:
2025-06-29 08:03:47
Latest chapter
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 291: The Fog Within the Heart
Livia did not return directly to the hospital.Instead, she wandered alone into the narrow veins of the city, where crooked alleys twisted into darkness. The lamps here were dim and flickering, their glow warped by the mist of damp stone. Rainwater lingered in shallow pools upon the cobblestones, reflecting shards of light like broken glass. A chill clung to the air, carrying with it the scent of mildew and smoke.From the shadows of a corner came the faint mutterings of a beggar, his words fractured and indistinct. Beneath a tattered cloth tent, a weary mother huddled with her infant, clutching the child so tightly one could almost feel her desperation. The baby’s cries, muffled against her chest, seeped through the night. Not far away, several children lurked behind passing strangers, their thin fingers trembling as they reached for scraps—bread crusts, half-eaten apples, anything that might mean another day alive.All of this… it was a scene she knew all too well.It was the world
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 290: Returning to the Past
Both of them knew.Both understood the hesitation and wariness in the other’s eyes. This was not trust—not in its true sense. It was a fragile arrangement, a truce forged from necessity, born from the sharp edges of their respective desires.And yet, for a father and daughter to stand here, speaking as if they were strangers striking a bargain, there was something bitterly ironic in it all. Blood tied them together, but positions tore them apart; reason wrestled with unspoken sentiment, leaving only a melancholy shadow between them.“Then…” Livia broke the silence, her tone outwardly calm yet edged with deliberate sharpness. “Do you know if anyone else holds a fragment?”The question was gentle in form, but beneath it lay a quiet blade. Her eyes tilted upward just slightly, watching Edgar with predatory precision, seeking the faintest tremor of change in his face.Edgar’s brows rose almost imperceptibly. He hesitated, and for a moment the lamplight seemed to stretch across his express
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 289: The Number of Fragments
The lamplight flickered, and for a moment, the very air seemed to grow heavy, as if the room itself were holding its breath.“We have one fragment,” Livia said at last, her tone deliberately casual. “And we’ve uncovered the trail leading to another.”As she spoke, she slipped a photograph onto the desk. The image showed the fragment she had in her possession, its jagged edges glimmering faintly. Her voice carried the ease of indifference, yet her eyes betrayed the truth—they were sharply focused on Edgar, watching his every reaction with quiet precision.“Marcellus once held another fragment,” she continued, her tone calm but her fingers curled slightly against her skirts. “That piece… disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Still, we have clues—clues that point us toward its likely whereabouts.”She did not ask if Edgar also possessed a fragment. She left the question unspoken, as if deliberately restraining herself, using that very restraint as a signal of her sincerity.Sure en
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 288: Livia’s True Feelings
As Livia’s words spilled forth in an unbroken stream, Edgar’s once-tense expression began to shift. The storm that had gathered in his features—the readiness to erupt into fury at any provocation—slowly eased. It was as though each syllable she uttered chipped away at the armor of his anger. What seeped into its place was something quieter, subtler: curiosity. His hand, which had been clenched in restrained agitation, lifted faintly, gesturing for her to go on.“I want the same thing you want, Father. I want to bring Mother back.”Livia’s voice carried a steady conviction, but beneath it pulsed the raw vulnerability of someone laying bare the deepest, most dangerous secret in her heart.“Oh?”The single syllable left Edgar like the crack of a whip. His pupils constricted, and for the first time, genuine shock etched itself across his face. The man who so rarely revealed his inner turbulence leaned forward in his chair, posture taut, eyes fixed on his daughter as though he could pierce
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 287: Livia’s “Confession”
Several days later, the flickering glow of candlelight filled Edgar’s study. The tall shelves, stacked heavily with volumes, cast looming shadows that made the entire room feel solemn, almost suffocating. Edgar sat behind his massive desk, a teacup—long since gone cold—resting in his hand. His eyes, however, were not on the cup. They were fixed on the figure standing before him: his daughter.Livia stood tall and straight across the desk, her posture composed, her gaze steady. The youthful innocence that once clung to her seemed to have melted away. What replaced it was something harder to define—a quiet, unyielding strength. Edgar stared at her, and for a fleeting instant, it was as if time had turned back. He saw in her the shadow of his late wife—firm, unbending, and cool as winter’s light. That familiar image stirred a wave of tenderness deep within him.But tenderness was a dangerous indulgence. Reality swiftly pressed down, extinguishing it. Edgar’s eyes hardened, the fleeting w
Reborn as the Wife He Killed Chapter 286: True Success
The hospital room was alive with chatter, debates ricocheting off the pale walls as the group hashed out every detail of the plan. They discussed what concessions might be possible with Edgar, which points were non-negotiable, and above all, the one principle that could never be compromised: the Grail must be utterly destroyed. Each sentence, each suggestion, felt like a probing test, a subtle measurement of each other’s boundaries, weighing the risks of every move before it was made. The tension was palpable, hanging in the air like a dense fog that refused to lift.When the discussion finally ended, everyone filed out of the room, leaving only Alia and Marcellus behind. The atmosphere shifted immediately; the noise and argument vanished, leaving a quiet filled only with the mechanical hum of respirators and the occasional whisper of wind brushing against the windowpane.Alia’s eyes softened as she looked at Marcellus lying on the bed. Her gaze was deep, reflective, carrying a warmth
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