The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 275

Lucca absentmindedly twisted the silver pendant around his neck. He plucked the printed statement from Victor's hands and lazily waved it in front of Claire's face.

"Claire, if this goes public, my dear uncle's life is genuinely over."

His smile grew increasingly perverse. "But I'm not an unreasonable man. It truly breaks my heart to see you on the verge of tears."

Claire's spine stiffened. She bit her lip, glaring at him.

"What do you want?"

"Simple." He pointed in the direction of the ancestral hall. "Stand before the Zimmerman ancestors for two days and nights. Alistair's health has been suffering because of this entire scandal, so you need to pray for his recovery."

Alistair set down his teacup, nodding in calm approval.

Claire's nails bit into her palms, the sharp sting keeping her lucid amidst the chaos.

"I'll do it," she said without hesitation.

Lucca's eyes lit up as he tossed the document back onto the table. "Such a decisive woman. Let's go, then. I need to supervise you personally."

He turned, flashing Victor a meaningful smirk.

The Zimmerman Ancestral Hall.

Tucked deep in the east wing, it was perpetually shrouded in the shadows of ancient trees, cold, damp, and completely deprived of sunlight.

The altar was lined with ancestral markers, illuminated by the flickering glow of eternal candles.

Was this where they had intended to punish Miles the day he was late to announce their engagement? In a twisted stroke of fate, she was the one facing the judgment instead.

Lucca walked in first. He snatched a porcelain cup from the offering table and hurled it onto the floor. It shattered violently, the jagged edges gleaming in the dim light.

He kicked the jagged pieces. "Stand on these."

His smile was pure malice. "Since you're praying for Alistair, it lacks sincerity without a little blood, wouldn't you agree, Claire?"

Claire stared down at the shards, her lips trembling slightly.

"What's with that look? Unwilling?" Lucca sighed in mock disappointment. "Oh well, I guess I'll just publish the statement."

"Don't..." Claire reached out in a panic to stop him.

"Claire, do you think Miles is having a miserable time in a holding cell? Killing a baby... the whole world must be spitting on his name right now."

"If he knew you were suffering here, do you think his heart would break?"

Hearing him mention Miles brought a flood of memories rushing back to her.

The tears she had forced down all night finally broke free, rolling silently down her cheeks.

"Crying now?" Lucca was thrilled, looking as if he had just witnessed a masterpiece. He eagerly extended his palm to catch her tears.

Suddenly, a deafening crash echoed from the entrance.

The heavy wooden doors were violently kicked open from the outside, the impact shaking the memorial plaques on the altar.

Miles stood silhouetted in the doorway, blocking out the light.

His expression was hidden in the shadows, but the sheer, suffocating aura radiating from him was terrifying.

His gaze locked onto Claire, taking in the blinding crimson staining her legs, the bloodied porcelain scattered beneath her, and Lucca's invasive posture.