?Chapter 1442:
Rosanna’s voice ripped through the room in a wild, broken scream, every word dripping with fury at the fate that had destroyed her life. The memory of that night — the one that had shattered her future — was a torment that had never stopped haunting her. She had designed that scheme. Instead, she had been reduced to nothing but a shattered victim.
“I hated you from the moment I met you. If not for that night, why would I ever have ended up chained to trash like you? Do you honestly think I would have stooped this low if you weren’t useful to me?”
Axell shook violently, rage wing up his throat until he coughed out a mouthful of thick, dark blood. “You… you used me…”
“Of course I did,” Rosanna said coldly, a cruel gleam of triumph in her eyes. “I took full advantage of you — for the status of Mrs. Nelson, for the wealth, for the name. You were nothing but a stepping stone. Did you actually believe I loved you?” Sheughed sharply. “Absurd. Take a good look at yourself sometime.”
A sh of memory — Austen — passed through her mind. For one brief moment, her expression softened. Then it dissolved into raw grief. “It was Austen I loved. Austen Nelson. Your younger brother.” Her voice cracked. “He and I were already together long ago.”
Axell’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“But…” Rosanna suddenly buried her face in her hands, dissolving into wrenching sobs that cut through the silence. When she lowered her hands again, she fixed Axell with a vicious, de-sharp re. “Austen is gone — gone forever. The memories are flooding back…”
“Austen is dead. Killed. So why are you, a worthless piece of trash, still breathing? You’re the one who should have died.” She rose, nted her bare foot on Axell’s hand, and crushed down with merciless force.
“Ah!” Axell shrieked, the pain nearly knocking him unconscious. The poison coursing through him left him entirely helpless.
Rosanna let out a twisted, delightedugh. “Don’t die yet. You still have onest job to do.”
She crossed to the mahogany desk, opened a drawer, and drew out a document she had prepared long ago. A will — every word carefully forged to match Axell’s handwriting, perfected through countless hours of practice. The message was simple and devastating: owing to his medicalplications, Axell had voluntarily ceded all Nelson properties, stock holdings, and the leadership position to his beloved wife, Rosanna.
She carried the will and a pen back to him and crouched at his side. “Sign it, and I’ll make your end quicker.”
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When Axell realized what it was, he thrashed weakly, eyes stretching wide with horror. “No… I won’t… You monster… I’ll kill you…”
“Kill me?” Rosanna scoffed. “Perhaps in your next lifetime.”
She grabbed his broken hand and forced a pen between his fingers. Axell used thest of his strength to pull away, but the poison had stripped him of any real resistance.
“No!” he cried — but Rosanna mmed his hand onto the paper and dragged out his signature. Dark ink carved a damning line across the page.
Axell could only watch, the veins in his eyes bursting red. Blood-tinged tears slid down his face.
Then, abruptly, something in him shifted. His gaze turned cold. Poisonous. He stopped fighting. Stopped speaking. Deep inside, with thest sparks of his fading mind, he sneered. Rosanna was such a fool. She thought she had won? She thought she was inheriting wealth? The Nelson family was already bankrupt — buried in illegal debts, drowning in holes the upper ss had forced them to cover. Without him, she would crumble. If she wanted the Nelson name, she could take it and rot with it. He would be dead soon, but Rosanna would be left facing devils far worse than him. He almost wanted to live long enough to watch her fall.
With hisst, venomced curse, Axell’s lips twitched into a weak imitation of a smile. A violent shudder tore through him. “You’ll burn in hell,” he rasped.
Those were his final words. His head tilted to one side, and his eyes stayed open — empty, frozen.
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