Chapter 362 The Real Killer
While they were on their way, Elliot and his men would continuously tune into the information and directions given by the bodyguards who were tracking Anastasia and her kidnappers. Right now, all Elliot could do was pray for her safe return. The thought of what those kidnappers might do to her while she lay helpless in the car brought an ominous gleam to his eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to catch up to that van and kill those kidnappers with his bare hands.
Even though they were accelerating at full speed, he still felt like they were going too slow for comfort. If Riley so much as touched a single hair on Anastasia’s head, he vowed that he would blast them all to kingdom come.
Presently, Anastasia was slowly coming to her senses as she lay on the ground in an abandoned house somewhere. A sack had been pulled over her head, and she could see nothing but darkness, though she did pick up the sounds of footsteps and people talking around her.
She struggled to break free of her restraints as she let out muffled cries. “Mmph!”
“Stop struggling. Miss Tillman. There’s no way you’re getting out of here alive,” said a weathered male voice.
For some reason, she found the voice extremely familiar, but she couldn’t match a face to it.
“You’re just like your mother, scrambling to die by my hands,” drawled a cold voice close to her ear.
Upon hearing this, Anastasia froze. My mother? Why did this man bring up my mother all of a sudden? Who is he? Judging by his words, he could very well have been my mother’s killer all those years ago. Who is he? Who the hell is he?
These thoughts clamored in her headspace, but just as panic and adrenaline filled her, the man spoke up once more. “Would you like to know more about your mother before you die, Miss Tillman? She could have actually escaped death all those years ago.” There was mock sympathy in his tone as he added, “Do you know who really killed your mother?”
Anastasia was still trembling with fear, but when she heard this, her fear was intermingled with curiosity. She was desperate, she realized, to learn the truth of her mother’s death.
“The actual person who killed your mother is none other than Old Madam Presgrave!” the man said insidiously, his voice loud and clear.
Anastasia shook her head furiously, not wanting to hear any more of this as torrential anguish seized her.
“Yet, here you are now, in love with the boy who had been the reason for your mother’s death all those years ago. Do you think your mother is going to rest in peace in the great beyond?”
The man was crouching right in front of her and rubbing a liberal amount of salt in her wounds. The fear in Anastasia was now gone, and it was replaced by a surge of strong hatred. She knew that the man was her mother’s killer.
Just then, he let out a bark of ominous laughter, and it was such a familiar sound that her mind felt as if it had imploded with the recollection. The man was none other than Elliot’s uncle, Riley. It had to be him.
He was the one who killed my mother all those years ago! The sudden realization filled her with anger as she struggled violently. Although she knew she couldn’t do anything, her instincts were urging her to unleash vengeance on this man.
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