Wrong marriage and sweet love (Joyce and Luther) novel Chapter 1672

Chapter 1672: I'd Rather Die

Suddenly, she let out a scream.

It was Luther who had finally come to his senses and pushed her away. He flipped her wheelchair directly, and his handsome face couldn't hide the look of disgust. He brushed off his sleeves, wishing he could just take them off and throw them in the trash.

Athena was completely overturned, her wheelchair crooked on the smooth marble floor, and she lay awkwardly on the ground.

When she landed, her shoulder hit the ground, the arm that Joyce had hit her. The wound reopened at this moment.

Fresh red blood instantly soaked her light-colored princess dress, revealing a hideous appearance.

The pain made her unable to hold back her expression, and she became distorted.

However, Luther's next words were the most lethal blow to her, as if pushing her straight into hell, never to be able to turn over again.

"Together with you? Ha." Luther sneered, his eyes like ice, cold to the bottom of his heart.

He said each word clearly, "I'd rather die."

He turned around and wanted to leave. Rather than waste time talking to her here, he would rather use all his abilities to find Iris. As long as she was in Pascaylia, on Khebury's turf, he didn't believe he couldn't find a trace of her.

What Athena could do, why couldn't he?

"Brother Luther."

Athena never expected to face such a life-and-death decision. Luther didn't hesitate to choose death over being with her, which was a huge blow to her.

She struggled to rush forward and hugged his leg, "Why? Why don't you even care about your own life? What's so good about Joyce? Is she worth it? Am I not as good as her? Am I not as beautiful as her? Am I not as capable as her? I have all these things!"

She couldn't understand. She had a powerful background, with organizational strength no less than that of a warlord.

She was pretty and universally recognized. When men saw her, their eyes couldn't move away.

Luther stopped in his tracks.

He turned back and looked down at her, his voice cold and without warmth, "Don't compare yourself to her, are you even worthy? You can't even compare to one of her toes. What's the use of being pretty if your soul is ugly? I advise you to accept psychiatric treatment."

"Do you really not want the antidote?"

Athena persisted, still holding onto him, almost begging him.

"You will die without the antidote."

Of course, everything she had done wasn't to see him die. She hadn't gotten him yet, how could he die?

Luther kicked her down to the ground, his chest filled with anger. The pain in her shoulder was unbearable, but she couldn't feel it anymore. Even the pain stimulated her madness at the moment.

The black-clothed people around her came forward, and two of them helped her back into the wheelchair.

After her anger subsided, Athena's emotions had calmed down. She straightened her clothes, smoothed her sleeves, and touched her long earrings. The twisted expression was replaced by an evil and sinister smile.

Luther had already walked to the door, and he was about to push it open.