His plan had been flawless.
From the moment he learned of Adkins's funeral, he had been meticulously plotting his revenge. He'd laced the tea with a significant dose of mercury—colorless, odorless, and difficult to detect. He had expected to take down everyone in the room, Ivy included.
But she hadn't touched the tea. She was completely unharmed.
The thought infuriated him. "Fine! You want me to let her go? Then send that woman over here!" he snarled, pointing the dagger at Ivy.
He knew Emma had despised Ivy. Killing her would be the ultimate revenge.
All eyes shifted to Ivy, who was standing beside Jamison.
"Not a chance!" Jamison instinctively pulled Ivy behind him, his eyes blazing with a fierce, protective light. "You're not getting out of here today. If you keep resisting, it won't end well for you."
"Hah… you think I expect a happy ending?" Hawley laughed, a crazed edge to his voice. "I've already come this far. It's just one worthless life. I'm an orphan. Dead, alive… what's the difference? My only regret is Marjory. You people killed her. Ivy killed her. All of you rich bastards killed her!"
Every word out of Hawley's mouth dripped with a deep-seated hatred for the wealthy, a resentment that had clearly festered for years. It was no wonder he had resorted to such extreme measures.
"Hurry up! Ivy, she's your mother! Are you really going to let her die?" Hawley threatened again when Ivy didn't move.
But as he spoke, the officer advanced, his gun still raised. "Hawley, I'm giving you one last chance to surrender. Release the hostage and put your hands on your head!"
"Stay back! Or I'll kill her! I swear I will!" Hawley shrieked, realizing Ivy had no intention of trading places with Rosetta. He broke into a fit of manic laughter. "You Windsors really are heartless. Even a mother and daughter… so cold…"
"Fine! They're all Windsors anyway. I'll take one with me!" With that, he lunged, plunging the dagger toward Rosetta's chest.
In that split second, the lead officer didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
*BANG!*
Hawley's body jolted, his arm going limp as the dagger flew from his grasp. Rosetta screamed and collapsed to the floor, covering her head.
Undeterred, Hawley scrambled to retrieve the weapon. The officer fired a second shot, and then three more officers swarmed him, swiftly and efficiently pinning him to the ground.
Crimson blood stained the white chrysanthemums at the front of the chapel, adding a grotesque touch of gore to the funereal atmosphere.
In the end, only Ivy and Jamison remained in the desecrated chapel.
Ivy walked to the memorial portrait and looked at the character for ‘condolences,' now spattered with blood. After a long silence, she spoke, her voice laced with self-deprecating irony. "I never thought I'd be the one to see you off in the end."
Jamison said nothing, simply standing beside her, his hand resting on her shoulder, giving it a firm, reassuring squeeze.
Ivy found a staff member from the funeral home and asked about the remaining procedures. After the farewell ceremony, the body would be cremated and then interred.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jamison asked.
"Yes. The rest of the family… I doubt they'll have time for this anytime soon." It was better to let the deceased rest in peace as quickly as possible.
But she wondered if Adkins, knowing that his own funeral had become the stage for such a horrific mass tragedy, would be able to rest in peace at all.
The memorial service ended in chaos. After Adkins's body was cremated, Ivy chose an exceptionally expensive urn for him. His business had failed, his mansion had been burned to the ground by an enemy—at least in death, he could reside in luxury. It was a kind of closure, she supposed.

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