Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Chapter 437



My face darkened as I frowned at Annora. She locked eyes with me, seemingly unfazed by my discovery. "Phoebe?" Colin whispered to me.

I snapped back to reality, standing up straight. "Go find an exit, see if you can figure out a way to call for help."

With a deep look at me, Colin nodded and left, pulling Finn and Bran by the arm.

Meanwhile, Robin was holding Stella in a patch of sunlight, visibly worried as he inspected her wound.

"Robin... if I die, would you put 'Wife of Robin' on my tombstone?" Stella's voice was weak and hoarse, her sense of humor still intact even in such dire circumstances.

Robin pressed down on her wound, trying to calm her. "You're not going to die... absolutely not."

Tears welled up in Stella's eyes. "I don't want to die. I haven't even gotten married, haven't had a boyfriend... I'm still single."

Seeing Stella like this, Robin was pretty sure she wasn't going to die yet.

"Don't be scared, just..." He lifted her shirt to check the wound. It wasn't deep but was still bleeding. She wasn't immediately in danger, but they couldn't waste time either.

"Robin, am I going to die?" Stella sobbed loudly.

"For now... you're not dying," Robin reassured her softly.

I glanced at Stella and Robin, relieved that Stella was somewhat okay for the moment, then turned my attention back to Annora.

Annora was still watching me, a smirk on her lips.

The moment she saw the scratch marks on her own hand, she must have known I was onto her...

"Come with me." I grabbed Annora by her collar, dragging her down to the staircase.

I slammed her against the wall, her face turning pale with pain.

"Oh... you sure don't hold back," I tightened my grip around her neck, gradually increasing the pressure.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Annora just laughed, a provocative sneer on her face. "You won't kill me..."

"You're thinking too much." My grip on her neck tightened further, my eyes cold with intent to kill. "Zoe, it was you who deliberately revealed our location, leading to her death, wasn't it?"

Annora struggled, gasping for air under my grip.

I slowly let go, grabbing her hair. "For someone who's been a victim of domestic violence, you sure had the strength to kill your own husband and hang him from the ceiling. How did you manage that?" Content

I remembered how, on the seventeenth floor, someone would die every time the lights went out.

How did she do it?

"Just designed a mechanism in advance," Annora said, her voice cold and devoid of emotion.

"Huh... So it was you. What's the purpose behind all this?" I demanded the truth.

"We're awakening a 'god', one that will cleanse this world," Annora spoke with a delusional fervor.

I grabbed her collar, kneeing her in the wound. "You better stop playing games with me."

Annora fell to the floor, still smiling at me. "Phoebe... you're not the mastermind of this game... I'm just a pawn." So, Annora wasn't the ultimate planner.

"What's your goal? Murder, revenge, or some twisted sense of justice?" I asked her, my voice low.

"No, no, no... This is just the beginning," Annora chuckled, standing up and moving towards a beam of sunlight.

Standing in the light, she turned to look at me with a smile. "We, we have a common purpose."

I frowned, unsure of her intentions.

"This world is tragic, fate seemingly

picks on the downtrodden, and the rope always breaks at its thinnest point... The poor and the

et

underprivileged can't control their fate, can't change it, only able to live in misery and pain, while the people at the top... control the fate of those below," Annora rambled on, her words making little sense to me.