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The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus) novel Chapter 461

As Anna's laughter filled the air, her azure eyes sparkled with mirth. Gabby felt her own troubled heart lift ever so slightly.

Children lived in such a simple world, devoid of deceit or complex moral quandaries. Their joy and sorrows were fleeting, quickly forgotten, and left behind.

"No worries, pumpkin, let's hit the road," Gabby said, wrapping Anna in a hug and heading out in search of a place that served comfort food. Maybe a diner with all-American fare would do.

Though she couldn't whip up a home-cooked meal for Anna at the moment, Gabby was determined to fulfill her every wish. Caring for Anna and witnessing her radiant smiles had become second nature to her.

Soon, they found a cozy little diner on the bustling streets of Dubai, and Gabby ordered a shrimp poppers and fries for Anna, watching her tuck in with gusto.

Gabby herself settled for a coffee, black as midnight. She couldn't stomach food right now. Her insides were a raging inferno of anger, leaving her throat parched.

After Anna was full and content, Gabby found a nearby motel and checked them in. Her home had been tainted by that vixen's touch, too soiled for her to even consider returning.

Gabby bathed Anna, then sang lullabies until the little one drifted off to sleep. But as Anna succumbed to slumber, Gabby lay awake, restless, the past replaying before her eyes in unrelenting waves.

She had thought she was living the dream, having married her darling Lucius. Although they hadn't had children of their own, Anna was a blessing in disguise. Perhaps, in time, they would have had their own little angels.

But now, her world had been turned upside down, leaving her blindsided.

Lucius had always been distant, but he had never before resorted to such cruel methods to drive her away, nor had he ever uttered such harsh words. The man she knew had transformed, now basking in wealth and success, revealing his true colors. Gabby had never imagined Lucius would cast her out, bringing another woman home to replace her.

Everything in that house was the fruit of her labor; she couldn't stand by and watch another woman claim it.

The more Gabby thought, the angrier she got. No, she wouldn't leave without a fight. She wouldn't let Lucius get his way so easily. She would rather destroy everything than let that woman revel in her life's work.

When a woman reached the brink of hatred, she could become reckless, and Gabby was no exception. The edge of hatred loomed near, beckoning her to act.

She had to return to what was rightfully hers, her sanctuary that she had built from scratch. She wouldn't let anyone else take that away from her, not without a fight.

With this thought, Gabby slipped out of bed, careful not to disturb Anna. She covered the sleeping child with a blanket, tiptoed out of the room, and silently locked the door behind her.

With that, she turned to head upstairs to call Lucius for his meal, but Gabby blocked the doorway, silent and immovable. She glared at the woman with an icy gaze, as if staring at a corpse long past its expiration.

The woman, unnerved by Gabby's stare, tried to lift the pot of pasta, still babbling, "Who are you trying to impress with that look? You should just get lost. You're a nuisance to the eye."

Her words sliced through what little restraint Gabby had left.

Gabby, her face deathly pale, moved silently behind her. In one swift motion, she grabbed the sharp chef's knife from the magnetic strip on the wall and, without hesitation, brought it down on the woman's neck.

With a single, clean stroke, the blade cut into the woman's flesh, severing her artery. Before the woman could utter a sound, Gabby raised the knife again and struck.

Gabby turned, her eyes ablaze with a predatory glint that could chill one's very soul. The woman before her, her beauty now twisted by terror, spun around with wide, horrified eyes. She pointed a trembling finger at Gabby, but before another word could escape her lips, Gabby struck. The woman's throat was severed, silencing her forever, leaving only the ghastly sound of blood gurgling from the fatal wound.

Blood spurted from the severed neck like a burst water main, spraying into the air with forceful abandon. This mist was a vivid scarlet, quickly painting everything in its path with the grim hue of death.

At that moment, Gabrielle's gaze was as cold as the grave. She was like a demonic avenger risen from the underworld, her blade rising and falling with relentless fury. Each strike sent the woman crumpling to the ground. Her life was ebbing away in a crimson tide. Inside, Gabby's mind roared with a singular, vengeful thought. Go to hell!

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