All Chapters of Reborn as the Wife He Killed: Chapter 321 - Chapter 330

Yet Alia was right—the Grail was the only goal that mattered now. Elias forced himself to press down the restless tide of emotion inside him, burying it so deep that his face soon regained composure. He straightened his posture, eyes sharpening, tone steadying as he pulled their discussion back to what truly mattered: the underground networks, and that man—Jim.Alia’s voice dropped a shade lower, tinged with a bitter self-mockery. She began to recount her first encounter with Jim: how he had slipped into a house to steal, bold enough to break into Eryx’s own residence. As she spoke, her lips curved into a cold smile, a smile carrying both helplessness and fury.“Looking back now, it feels as though the script had already been written in the shadows. Perhaps even then, he had already set his eyes upon the Grail. And I—” she exhaled sharply, “I was nothing more than a carefully chosen piece, molded by his hands.”She went on to paint Jim’s portrait with meticulous strokes: the way his l

“There’s a rough outline,” Elias murmured, his voice low and heavy in the night. His eyes never left Alia’s face, the firelight reflecting in his pupils like the embers of an unspoken thought. “But what I really want to know,” he continued, each word slow, deliberate, “is what his true wish actually is. He’s already the king of the underworld, standing at the very peak of that domain—so what more could he possibly desire? We know he seeks the Grail, yes. But if we can uncover the wish he intends to make with it, then we can tailor our trap precisely for him.”As he spoke, his fingers moved unconsciously in the air, sketching circles, as though trying to corral invisible threads of possibility into some coherent pattern.Alia lifted her gaze to him, the lamplight catching in her eyes, painting them with a complex sheen of doubt and memory. “I know Jim has always had his own plan,” she said slowly, the words dragged from the depths of half-forgotten recollections. Her tone carried a coo

After much debate, the group finally reached a consensus: they would let Alia be the one to act.Adrian’s expression was conflicted, his brows drawn together in protest. He seemed as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end, only a sigh escaped him. Turning away, he quietly left the ward. He knew his sister’s decision was already made, and with Elias and Marcellus showing no intention of stopping her, any words from him would be useless.The room grew still, leaving only the faint rhythm of breathing between the three who remained. Elias’s eyes settled on Alia, his tone carrying a trace of hesitation so subtle it was almost hidden. “Be careful… don’t push yourself too hard.” His gaze lingered, heavy with unsaid words that he ultimately swallowed back.Marcellus sat at the edge of the bed, fingers drumming softly on the railing. At last, he spoke, voice low, colored with something far more fragile than his usual composure. “We’ll support you from behind the scenes. But you mu

Jim was silent for a moment, the corner of his lips curving into a faint, unreadable smile. He lifted his head and fixed his gaze on Alia, as though weighing something carefully in his mind.“Of course—” he began slowly, his tone low, carrying an undertone of something neither warmth nor threat, “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this.”He turned away from her and walked toward a rusted metal shelf at the side of the room. The dim, yellow light of the hanging lamp stretched his shadow long across the wall, distorting it into a strange, twisted shape.“But you’re my teammate,” Jim continued, his voice softening slightly—whether with trust or deliberate calculation, Alia couldn’t tell. “So I’ll tell you.”Then he turned back around, and his eyes, sharp as a blade, locked directly onto hers.“When your blood comes into contact with the Holy Grail,” he said quietly, “you form a bond with it.”His words lingered in the air, smooth yet carrying a strange pull, as if each syllable resonated in t

The air inside the warehouse remained thick and heavy, the dim light above flickering restlessly, casting trembling shadows across the cracked walls and layers of dust. The conversation had reached its most crucial point, and in Jim’s deep, unreadable eyes, a glimmer of greed and anticipation shimmered, impossible to conceal.“You’re certain,” Alia asked quietly, her tone steady but edged with disbelief, “that what you want… is Marcellus’s blood?”“Of course.” Jim’s reply came almost instantly, his voice cold and precise. “With his blood, I can locate the handle he once threw away. For me, that won’t be difficult.”Alia narrowed her eyes slightly, her mind racing.“Marcellus’s blood…” she murmured, her tone deliberately hesitant. “That means not only getting close to him, but striking when he’s completely off guard. That’s not an easy task.”She paused for a breath, then said softly, “Let me think about it.”A cold, amused smile tugged at the corner of Jim’s lips. “What’s wrong? Getti