The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 248

Eaton’s face dropped, grim and stormy. “What are you...”

Laura just laughed, a brief, bitter sound.

“No wonder you always hated me, even when I was a kid. After my mom died, you acted like I didn’t exist. Back then, I kept wondering if I’d done something to deserve it. Was I too loud? Too clumsy? I tried so hard to be better... but it never mattered.

Then that day, when I almost bumped into you going downstairs, you kicked me. I fell. You almost strangled me that time. That’s when I finally got it. You didn’t just dislike me. You flat-out hated me.”

Laura stepped closer. He looked even more furious, his whole face drained of color, but she smiled at him, soft and cruel.

“You hate me because I exist. Because I’m living proof of what you did to my mom. You sent her to another man’s bed, and I’m what she had after that. I’m not your daughter. I’m your greatest shame.”

“That’s enough!” Eaton exploded, sending his teacup crashing to the floor. China shards went everywhere, dark tea splattering the carpet. He lunged at Laura, his hand clamping hard around her throat, rage twisting his face. “You filthy thing, why aren’t you dead already?”

Laura had no choice but to tilt her head back. Her empty eyes stared straight past him. She didn’t even flinch. “But you won’t let me die, will you? I saved Franco. I’m your ticket out of trouble.”

She started to laugh, ice cold. “If you’re such a man, Eaton, then do it. Go ahead. Kill me.”

“You worthless brat!” Eaton flung her down. Laura’s hand caught on a shard of porcelain and sliced open, but she didn’t even wince.

Eaton grabbed a couple of tissues, wiped his hands clean, and tossed the crumpled ball at her. His voice was cold as he threatened, “If you don’t land this partnership for me, I’ll feed your mother’s ashes to the dogs.”

She watched him stomp away, and the corners of her lips turned up into a strange, twisted little smile.

---

Outside, dusk was closing in. Petty had put together some food for General, but the dog was nowhere to be seen.

He’d overheard the news about Adelaide’s death, but no one told him what Franco did next—that Franco didn’t even acknowledge Petty in front of everyone at the memorial. Once he learned the truth, he dropped everything and came running.

Now he held her tighter, eyes shining red with guilt and grief. “I’m so sorry, Petty. I should have been here for you sooner. I shouldn’t have let you go through all this alone.”

At his words, Petty felt her eyes sting, thinking about her grandmother, about Susan, about everything that had just happened.

“Harris, you have to let go—please, I can barely breathe.” She tried to wiggle free, but Harris held on like his life depended on it. She pushed against his chest and suddenly he sucked in a sharp breath.

Instantly, she remembered Harris being shot on that yacht—how he staggered and bled.

Her hand froze. Harris just pulled her in again, holding her even tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder and harsh breaths warming her neck.

Inside the main house, in the second-floor study behind the big window, someone stood in silence, watching them. Those eyes were dark and icy, heavy with unspoken anger, as they looked out over the yard where Harris and Petty clung to each other.