Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 348

“Claire, why are you so ungrateful? I’m saying all this for your own good. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t even bother,” Vincent snapped.

Claire looked at him with a kind of pity—like she was watching a sad, ridiculous clown make a fool of himself.

“If it were someone else and you spoke to them like this, they would’ve slapped you across the face a long time ago,” she replied, her voice icy. “The only reason I don’t stoop to your level is because I don’t want to dirty my own hands.”

She took a breath, her gaze unwavering. “Vincent, I hope this is the last time we ever see each other. And if we do run into each other again, do yourself a favor and leave me alone. Honestly, talking to you for even a second more makes my skin crawl. You make me physically sick.”

“Believe me, I mean every word. I truly, deeply loathe you. Just looking at you feels like I’m polluting my eyes.”

With that, Claire turned on her heel, grabbed Sean’s hand, and strode away without looking back.

Vincent’s hands tightened around the arms of his wheelchair, his entire body trembling.

He watched as Claire and Sean’s figures faded down the street, bitterness burning in his chest.

He knew he’d lost her. But the urge to possess her was like a sickness—he couldn’t bring himself to let go.

How could the girl who once loved him so completely just walk away, as if it meant nothing? How could she fall into another man’s arms so easily?

Even knowing about Claire’s past, even knowing she wasn’t “pure” by his standards, Vincent couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

Grinding his teeth, he clutched the folder in his lap—the lifeline he needed to get back on his feet.

He’d finally landed a big divorce case, and his client was none other than the sales manager at Foster & Co.

If he managed to win, helping the man seize every penny of his wife’s fortune, Vincent stood to make at least a hundred thousand in commission—and maybe gain a powerful ally.

He was sure he could destroy the guy at Claire’s side.

“Claire, just wait. I won’t let you go that easily,” Vincent muttered under his breath, his voice edged with madness.

Was he… comforting her?

She smiled. “Vincent’s words don’t bother me.”

She’d heard far worse from him before. Nothing he said could shake her anymore.

Still, there was one thing Vincent got right: someone as broken as her—deaf, crippled—could never be good enough for someone like Mr. Foster.

A wave of bitterness washed over her, and she lowered her eyes, hiding her emotions.

She needed to finish her embroidery work faster, get her life back on track, retrieve her kidney, and then take Mandy and May far away.

The more time she spent with Mr. Foster, the harder it became to let go.

But a clean break would be better for both of them. The sooner she left, the less it would hurt. And when he finally forgot her, if she died, maybe he wouldn’t grieve too long.