Don’t Fall for the Billionaire Lover

She chuckled again, "But you know what? It's fine. As long as those folks end up in hell, it doesn't matter how many more I have to take out." Claire moved closer. She gently placed her hand on the man's cheek and said, "Paul, there's just one left. Once I deal with that monster, I'll come down to be with you, alright?"

With that, Claire wrapped her arms tightly around the man in front of her. Connor's body went rigid. In his memory, this was the first time Claire had embraced him. The genuine warmth of her body. A real embrace. For a fleeting moment, Connor felt a bittersweet ache in his heart. Surprisingly, he didn't want to push her away.

But when he heard the word "monster," it was like someone had poured acid into his veins. It started eating away at him from the inside, sending out toxic fumes, his organs corroding and festering, turning his blood into a poisonous sludge that destroyed everything in its path.

Connor's fingers clenched tightly. Finally, he spoke with a chilling calmness, "Sis, open your eyes and see who I really am."

That familiar voice hit Claire like a bullet to the forehead. Her whole body went stiff. She was still holding onto Connor. She didn't move. Instead, Connor stepped back. He looked at her with disgust, adjusting his clothes and brushing off his sleeves as if he had touched something dirty.

Claire's face was a mix of disbelief. It was as if something shattered right before her eyes. The image of Paul faded away, replaced by Connor's face. Her expression turned rigid, "How could it be you?"

Connor's voice was as light as a feather, "Who did you think it was, sis?"

Claire's expression shifted from shock and disbelief to pure loathing. "Connor! I'm going to kill you!"

Images from years ago flooded

Claire's mind The hellish torture, like her skin being peeled away inch by inch, only to be seared again with a hot iron until it was nothing but a blur of pain. That agony still stawed at her nerves, refusing to let go.

Connor casually walked over to a stage, picked up a long sword from the ground, and returned. He handed the sword to Claire, "Go on, kill me."

Connor was as calm as discussing

the weather. But the calmer he was,

the more Claire saw him as a madman. He was indeed a lunatic, crazier deep down than she was.

Claire seized the long sword, aiming it at Connor's chest. "Connor, you think I won't do it? You're practically begging for it!"

Connor's expression remained unfazed, "Kill me, sis. If you think it'll set you free, then go ahead."

Claire's long sword was precisely aimed at Connor's left chest. This sword was unbelievably sharp, a genuine artifact from the Spring and Autumn Beriod she had splurged on at a Sotheby's auction. When she' bought it, it was covered in verdigris, but they never treated it like an ancient, priceless heirloom. Over the years, Claire had honed its edge until it could slice through metal like it was nothing.

Claire locked eyes with Connor. Her arm tensed as she thrust the sword towards his chest.