As Wesley closed in, fear red in Dahlia''s eyes.


    Her hands were bound.


    She struggled desperately, trying to break free, but it was useless.


    Panic wed at her chest, making her words tumble out in a frantic, garbled rush. First, she tried to threaten him, her tone sharp and fierce.


    "Wesley, don''te any closer!"


    "What are you trying to do to me?"


    But then she realized her harshness might backfire. She quickly softened her voice, trying to appeal to his emotions, to cloud his mind with sweet memories.


    After all, Wesley had loved her so deeply.


    He used to believe every word she said.


    Surely, she could reach him again.


    "Wesley, please, don''t do anything you''ll regret. Put the knife down, okay? Let''s talk this out, just the two of us."


    "Didn''t you once say that I was the love of your life? That all you ever wanted was to be with me forever? I promise you, if you let me go now, we can start over. We can have that future you dreamed of."


    "Wesley, I swear I''m not lying this time. I know I was wrong. I know now-the only one who ever truly loved me, the only one who ever really cared, was you."


    "My heart''s finally clear. I realize now you''re the one for me. It was Charles'' money and empty promises that blinded me, made me do things I regret. Please, believe me, I''m so, so sorry. I truly am."


    "I swear to God, I''ll wait for you, no matter what—”


    But before Dahlia could finish weaving her promises, Wesley made his move.


    He pressed the knife closer to her chest.


    Dahlia''s breath caught in her throat.


    Gone was any thought of emotional maniption; the chill of death was a shadow looming over her.


    She was terrified-Wesley looked one step away from plunging the de straight into her heart.


    If he snapped, she knew she would die right here.


    Desperate, shaking, Dahlia screamed, "Wesley, murder is a crime—”


    Trying desperately to stop him.


    "A murderer like you, talking to me about thew?" Wesley''s voice was icy, mocking her.


    He watched her choke on her own words, finding it almostughable.


    She had no idea how precious a life was—until her own was at stake.


    All he could see was Dahlia''s cold, calcted cruelty when she''d destroyed Sandy.


    The knife in Wesley''s hand shed.


    "Ah!"


    Dahlia''s eyes went wide, a scream tearing from the depths of her throat.


    But there was no pain.


    Only a sudden, chilling draft across her chest.


    Dahlia blinked in terror, ncing down.


    It was a false rm.


    Wesley hadn''t stabbed her. Instead, he''d sliced open her blouse and bra with a single stroke.


    But that didn''t bring her any relief-her entire body went rigid.


    The de didn''t move away. Instead, it settled right over her heart.


    The cold


    el pressed against heret


    skin, to


    heart hammered against he ribs.


    sly close to


    t belongs to sw


    It felt like living beneath a guillotine, uncertain if the de would fall.


    The fear was unbearable.


    Dahlia looked up at Wesley, her eyes


    pleading. "Wesley, please, for the


    sake of everything we''ve been


    ет


    through for the fact that I was with you since I was sixteen, that I gave you everything when I was eighteen-just let me go this once. I''m begging you, please.


    Wesley''s smile was cold and twisted. "Let you go? Dahlia, did you ever let Sandy go?"


    "When you made her stand outside


    in the snow as punishment, when you hit her again and again just take out your anger, when you deliberately made her sick to try and win Charles back... How many times did Sandy beg you for mercy? Did you ever stop and think to let her


    go?"


    "Dahlia, Sandy is your own daughter. Your flesh and blood. How could you ever


    do that to her?"