Alpha's Abandoned Daughter is the Secret Heiress novel Chapter 371

< Chapter 371 The Assassin Confesses

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Chapter 371: The Assassin Confesses

Chapter 371: The Assassin Confesses

(Author’s POV)

“Adrian!”

Livia screamed, her voice tearing through the silence of the night.

Her trembling fingers slapped against the wall, finding the switch for the crystal chandelier.

Blinding white light instantly flooded the room.

It banished the shadows, revealing the chaotic scene in the living room with brutal clarity.

The heavy coffee table was overturned, lying on its side like a dead beast.

Shards of a broken porcelain vase were scattered across the expensive rug, glinting dangerously.

Under the harsh light, two figures were locked in a desperate struggle.

Adrian looked wild and unkempt.

His upper body was bare, muscles straining with effort. He wore only a pair of loose cotton sweatpants.

A vicious cut marred his chest, blood streaming down his skin, following the contours of his muscles.

He was barely holding back a stranger clad entirely in black tactical gear.

The attacker wore a black mask that obscured his face completely.

In the assassin’s grip was a military–grade dagger made of pure silver. It radiated a bone–chilling coldness.

Adrian gritted his teeth, his arms shaking as he blocked another lethal strike from the silver blade.

“Run, Livia!” he roared, his voice hoarse with exertion. “Get back in the room and lock the door! Now!”

Livia froze for a split second, her eyes wide with terror.

The assassin’s cold gaze flicked towards her. She was the target.

Survival instinct kicked in hard.

She stumbled backward, turning and fleeing into her bedroom.

She slammed the heavy door shut and twisted the lock with shaking hands.

Her chest heaved as she pressed her back against the wood.

But as the adrenaline surged, a cold seed of doubt sprouted in her mind.

If Adrian hired this man to kill her, why was he fighting him so desperately?

And there was something else. Something wrong.

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< Chapter 371 The Assassin Confesses

The living room was a war zone of noise and violence.

Yet, the room next door remained deadly silent.

Caleb’s room.

Caleb and his wolf, Noah, possessed heightened senses. They should have heard the first crash.

Why hadn’t he come out?

A pained groan from Adrian drifted through the door. It sounded wet and agonizing.

Livia’s heart warred with itself. Fear of death clashed with worry for her mate.

She couldn’t just hide here like a coward.

She rushed to her vanity table, her eyes scanning frantically for a weapon.

Her fingers closed around a steel letter opener. It was sharp, cold, and her only defense.

She slid it into the cuff of her sleeve, concealing the blade against her wrist.

Taking a deep breath, she forced down the rising bile of terror.

A grim resolve settled over her features.

She unlocked the door and threw it open.

The scene outside was gruesome.

Adrian had collapsed onto the floor.

He clutched his shoulder, his face twisted in agony.

Where the silver blade had touched him, the skin was scorched black, smoke rising faintly from the

wound.

Silver poisoning was already setting in.

“Livia…” Adrian gasped, looking up at her with a complex expression. “Why didn’t you run?”

Livia didn’t run to him.

Instead, she bolted toward Caleb’s door.

She pounded her fists against the wood, screaming his name.

“Caleb! Caleb, wake up! Help us!”

Silence answered her.

It was a heavy, suffocating silence, as if the room beyond was a tomb. No one was coming.

The black–clad assassin moved.

With a brutal kick, he sent the injured Adrian skidding across the floor.

< Chapter 371 The Assassin Confesses

The assassin turned his full attention to Livia.

He stepped over the debris, the bloody silver dagger held loosely in his hand.

His presence was suffocating, a wall of lethal intent closing in on her.

On the floor, Adrian watched through narrowed eyes.

*Too slow,* he thought viciously. *Just kill her already.*

But outwardly, he let out a desperate cry, dragging his body forward.

“No! Don’t touch her!” Adrian screamed, playing the part of the devoted mate to perfection.

“Come for me! Kill me instead! Leave my mate alone!”

He needed her to die believing he tried to save her.

That way, he would be the tragic survivor, the victim of a home invasion. No one would suspect the

grieving widower.

Livia backed away until she hit the wall.

A strange, steely calm washed over her as death approached.

She stared directly into the assassin’s masked face.

“Why?” she demanded, her voice steady. “Why do you want to kill me?”

The assassin stopped two paces away.

His eyes

crinkled at the corners beneath the mask. It was a look of cruel amusement.

“Why?” the assassin rasped, his voice distorted.

He pointed the tip of the bloody knife at Adrian.

“Ask your mate. He paid a very high price for your head.”

Outside the window, perched high in the branches of an old oak tree, Silas froze.

She adjusted her night–vision binoculars, a frown creasing her forehead.

As an experienced info broker, she knew how hitmen worked.

They didn’t chat. They didn’t reveal their employers.

Why would this assassin expose Adrian? It didn’t make sense.

Inside the room, Livia felt as if she had been struck by lightning.

The world seemed to spin.

She turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto Adrian.

“Is that true?” she whispered.

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< Chapter 371 The Assassin Confesses

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Adrian’s face contorted with righteous indignation.

“He’s lying!” Adrian shouted, pointing a trembling finger at his blackened shoulder.

“Look at me, Livia! Look at this wound! Silver burns!”

He gasped for air, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“He wants to drive a wedge between us! If I wanted you dead, why would I let him burn me with silver? Why would I fight him?”

His voice was filled with pain and betrayal. It was a convincing performance.

Livia hesitated. The wound was real. The pain was real.

The assassin chuckled. It was a dry, grating sound.

“A twisted domestic drama,” the killer mused, toying with the dagger.

“Twisting the knife is always the fun part.”

He looked at Livia with mocking pity.

“The wound? It’s just a prop, sweetheart. Essential for the cover story.”

“He needed an injury to rule himself out as a suspect once the police arrived. Self–inflicted or planned, does it matter?”

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