All Chapters of Reborn as the Wife He Killed: Chapter 331 - Chapter 337

The smell of blood mingled with the acrid sting of disinfectant, cold and sharp in the still air.Elias stood frozen, staring at the glass filled with fresh, dark blood. Shock and fury tangled in his eyes—he had never imagined Marcellus would actually go this far. The cut had been too swift, too deliberate, as if he had decided long before this moment what he would do.“Marcellus—have you lost your mind?!” Elias’s voice came out as a low growl, his worry burning into anger. “This is Jim we’re talking about! You don’t even know what he’s going to do with your blood!”Alia was equally stunned, her breath catching in her throat. She had seen Marcellus make ruthless choices before, had witnessed his calm in chaos countless times—but seeing him now, blood streaming from his palm, his expression steady and unwavering… her heart clenched painfully tight.Marcellus only smiled faintly. His gaze was calm, almost serene.“You can’t catch a wolf without sacrificing the lamb,” he said slowly, his

Yet Alia continued, her tone calm but edged with thought.“Given what I know of Jim, in this situation, he’d at least tell the truth. And—” She paused slightly, her gaze dropping to the edge of the wooden table glimmering under the dim light. Her fingertip traced absently along the rim of her cup. “He probably won’t harm Marcellus right now. What he wants… is only the Holy Grail.”The air froze for a moment. Elias lifted his head, a glint of coldness flickering in his eyes as he asked, his tone probing, “Then he’d still have a good reason to get rid of Marcellus, wouldn’t he? After all—eliminating him might help him seize the other fragments of the Grail.”“No.” Alia shook her head slowly, a faint, complex chill flashing across her gaze. “If Jim truly wanted Marcellus dead, he’d never let me know.”Her voice dropped lower, half recollection, half analysis. “When he decides to kill someone, he never makes a show of it. Silent, unseen—that’s his way. He’s not afraid of anything, but whe

For a long time, Elias said nothing. The steady hum of the hospital’s machines filled the silence between them, a faint rhythm like the ticking of time itself—measured, unrelenting.Then, at last, he exhaled slowly. The sound was quiet but heavy, as if releasing something that had been locked inside him for years. When he finally spoke, his voice carried an unexpected softness—something fragile, unfamiliar, almost human.“You know,” he began, the corners of his lips tightening with a faint, rueful smile, “this time… I really am moved by you. I didn’t think you were that kind of person. I suppose I’ve underestimated you all along—my brother.”That last phrase—my brother—was so gentle it almost vanished in the air, yet it lingered, echoing faintly against the sterile white walls, like the fading toll of a bell.For a brief second, Marcellus’s composure wavered. His eyes flickered with light, a fleeting reflection of emotions too complex to untangle—shock, quiet gratitude, and something