Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 204

When Charlotte heard Tricia’s words, it was as if her blood turned to ice. Only then, seeing the smug triumph on Tricia’s face, did she finally realize: it was Tricia. Tricia was behind her mother's fall.

No wonder Evander hadn’t let her go to the police station. No wonder he’d never told her the real reason her mother fell.

It was all because of Tricia.

Charlotte’s hands clenched so tightly her knuckles whitened, her eyes burning with sudden, furious tears.

Tricia stepped closer, stopping right in front of her. “Honestly, I never meant for her to die,” she said, almost lazily. “But she overheard something she shouldn’t have. Bad luck, really—she brought it on herself.”

Charlotte’s whole body trembled, rage building until it felt like she might explode. “Why?” she choked out. “Why would you do something like this?”

“I already told you—it was just an accident.” Tricia’s face was blank, unrepentant. “She was just unlucky.”

“My mother, my brother, my father—were those all ‘accidents’ too?” Charlotte seized her wrist, her grip desperate. “Just because Evander indulges you, protects you, you think you can do whatever you want? You really believe he’ll always be there to shield you?”

Tricia wrenched free, her expression turning haughty. “So what if he won’t always be there? As long as it’s about me, he’ll never just stand by and watch. This time’s no different.”

“You kept saying you’d leave him, but did you? I knew it—you couldn’t bear to give up being Mrs. Howard.” She sneered. “If you insist on fighting me, why should I show you any mercy?”

Charlotte’s heart seemed to stop; the color drained from her face.

“So you went after them—my family!” she whispered.

Tricia’s eyes flashed with cruelty. “Well, they’re the ones you care about, aren’t they? I can’t touch you, but I can hurt them. You forced my hand, Charlotte. You never should have gotten close to Hans Winthrop.”

Charlotte’s thoughts scattered. Was it all because she’d approached Hans, because she’d noticed his injured leg and Tricia was afraid her secret would come out?

The absurdity of it made her laugh, bitter and cold. “If Evander ever saw who you really are, don’t you think he’d find it hilarious?”

For a brief moment, Tricia’s confidence faltered, but she quickly recovered, lips curling into a smug smile. “He loves me so much, Charlotte. Even if he found out, he’d still love me.”

She leaned in, voice low and mocking. “But you? Your mother and father are gone. Your brother’s a vegetable—who knows how much longer he’ll survive?” She clicked her tongue, laying a mock-comforting hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I heard you’d just started to feel like you belonged somewhere. Now you have nothing. How pitiful.”

He clenched his jaw, stepped between the two women, and stopped Tricia in her tracks. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near her.”

“Evander, I just wanted to apologize. Otherwise, I’d never have a clear conscience—”

“Do you not know how to pick your moment?” He rubbed his brow, exasperated. For once, he was at a loss for words.

Tricia stood frozen, biting her lip. So he really does care about Charlotte…

Charlotte emerged from the apartment, her gaze locked on them. She wasn’t thinking anymore; hatred had swallowed her whole.

Evander sensed the danger a second too late. He shoved Tricia aside as Charlotte drove the small kitchen knife into his side.

Tricia went as white as a sheet, stumbling backward in shock.

Evander’s face drained of color as pain lanced through him. He caught Charlotte’s hand, gripping it tightly, crimson blooming in his eyes. “Charlotte…”