Rebirth: She Cuts Ties and Takes Revenge (Noelle Kain) novel Chapter 572

Christine's expression completely changed. She raised the knife and pointed it at Jasper's throat. "Shut up!"

Not only did Jasper refuse to shut up, but he also laughed.

There was blood in that smile, along with the reckless resolve of someone who no longer cared what happened to him. Looking at Christine, he rasped hoarsely, "Ms. Duncan, if you're using me to threaten Noelle, you picked the wrong person. She's not coming. The person she hates most is me. If you kill me, she'll probably applaud."

Christine's blade paused for a second.

Jasper closed his eyes, that faint smile still hanging from his lips.

There was bitterness in his heart, but also relief.

Noelle won't come, and that's for the best.

She shouldn't come. She can't. If she does, she'll fall straight into Christine's trap.

If she stays hidden, then my death will at least mean something.

"Then let's find out." Christine gritted her teeth and shifted the blade toward Jasper's throat. "We'll see whether she comes or not."

She raised the knife and was just about to bring it down...

"Stop."

A voice drifted from behind the crowd. It wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority, as if it had traveled from somewhere far away while simultaneously exploding beside everyone's ears.

Christine's hand froze in midair.

Jasper's eyes snapped open, his heart pounding so hard it felt ready to burst from his chest.

He instinctively looked toward the source of the voice. It wasn't Noelle. It wasn't Lucas. It wasn't anyone he recognized.

The crowd automatically parted to make way. Several people carried over a soft sedan chair, and seated on it was a man.

He sat in a wheelchair, thin as a skeleton.

He wore a pale silver-white coat with subtle silver stitching along the collar, a matching belt hanging loosely at his waist like it might come undone at any moment.

A bamboo hat rested on his head, and a thin veil hung down from its brim, hiding his face from view.

But through the veil, people could still vaguely make out traces of the handsome features he once had.

It was Floyd.

The head of the Pattons.

Christine's face instantly turned deathly pale.

Clang! The knife slipped from her hand and crashed onto the ground. She quickly hid her trembling hands behind her back, like someone caught red-handed doing something shameful.

Instinctively, she took two quick steps forward before stopping herself. Her lips trembled, and even her voice changed pitch. "F-Floyd? Why are you here? You're not well. You shouldn't be out in the wind!"

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