CHAPTER HUNDRED-SEVENTEEN: ANOTHER VERSION OF ME

Catherine’s POV

Moments later, I could hear the jarring sound of police sirens and loud voices in the Manor, and then the door flew open as Alexander rushed in. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene—the bloody knife on the floor, my hands trembling, the cuts marring my skin.

“Catherine, are you okay?” His voice was urgent as he crossed the room to me, his hands reaching for mine.

“Olivia,” I whispered, barely able to speak. “I think she is dead,”

“Where is she?” he asked, his gaze flipping to the balcony.

I pointed, unable to form the words. He followed my gaze, stepping out onto the balcony. I watched as he looked down, his shoulders tensing when he saw her.

He rushed back to me, his face pale. “She tried to kill me,” I managed to say, my voice was barely a whisper.

Alexander saw the knife, stained with blood, lying on the floor. His expression hardened as he turned back to me, his hands were gentle as he checked the cuts on my hands.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured,