Chapter 490-Ragnar Figured It Out

Chapter 490: 490-Ragnar Figured It Out

Verity:

Ragnar had actually shown up.

To be honest, when I was back at my house and Oswin was threatening me, I’d secretly wished over and over that Ragnar would show up, just as I’d hoped he would.

Because unlike me, Oswin hadn’t bothered to secure the door properly. He’d simply locked it and left the key inside.

Well, judging by what had happened, that was probably exactly how Ragnar had managed to get in.

But now, another worry was eating away at me.

Sure, Ragnar had saved me, but I knew his motives couldn’t have been that simple.

Rescuing me had probably been nothing more than a side quest for him, something he’d happened to do along the way.

And now he was going to find out everything.

He would finally have all the proof he needed against me.

The way he’d dragged Oswin out of the bedroom, followed by the screams that soon began echoing through the cabin, told me it was only a matter of time before that bastard cracked.

I could hear him begging Ragnar to stop hitting him, his pleas growing increasingly desperate until he finally did exactly what I’d expected from a loser like him.

"Please! I’ll tell you everything! She’s not who you think she is. She’s not in love with you or your brothers. She’s here to fucking punish all of you, and I have proof!"

Oswin had finally broken, clearly prepared to expose my entire game if it meant saving his own skin.

And then there was silence.

I closed my eyes, allowing a tear to slip down my cheek.

A bitter, almost disbelieving laugh rose from deep within me.

Seriously, I’d actually believed I’d assembled the perfect army for this.

And look how that had turned out.

I wondered what the fuck had happened to wanting justice for my brother.

I’d been right all along. For Oswin, it had never been about getting justice for him.

He’d only been trying to control me.

The bastard had no real purpose in his own life, so he’d decided to use me to make things a little more entertaining for himself.

And the moment he got caught, he was ready to ruin my entire game just to save his own skin.

After nearly an hour of silence, I heard another loud grunt escape Oswin’s mouth, followed by a thud.

He’d definitely fallen for it.

Ragnar must have extracted every last bit of information from him by now, and I was certain he was already planning to have me arrested.

So I braced myself.

I was ready for the brothers to come marching in and bombard me with all their hard-hitting questions.

I mean, there was no point in backing down anymore.

They probably had everything they needed against me by now, including my text messages, records, and every single fucking detail of what I’d been planning.

And I was prepared to face them.

Although, regrettably, I hadn’t managed to destroy the bond between the brothers as thoroughly as I’d intended.

After all, that very bond had been the reason they’d tortured my brother.

They’d wanted to see their own brother’s girlfriend with someone else, and my brother had paid the price for it.

But there was nothing I could do about that now.

When the bedroom door finally opened, I saw Ragnar standing in the doorway.

His white shirt was completely soaked in blood, his coat was slipping off his shoulders, and his sleeves were rolled up.

Yet there was a strangely comforting, almost cocky smile on his face.

"Hey, wifey, that was your guy?" Ragnar asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the living room. "He crumbled like a fucking cookie."

He snorted with laughter before glancing down at himself.

Gripping the bloodstained fabric of his shirt between the fingers of both hands, he shook his head in disappointment.

Then he began unbuttoning it, pulled it off, and tossed it aside before heading toward the closet to find something else to wear.

"This fucker doesn’t have anything decent," he muttered, rummaging through the clothes. "All those insecurities, and he still tried so damn hard to act like he was something special."

He continued grumbling under his breath, occasionally shaking his head.

"Keeping an eye on you like that. Does the fool even know where he stands? He can’t even afford to..."

I had no idea what the hell he was talking about anymore.

He was practically talking to himself, muttering one thing after another.

Half of it made sense, while the rest sounded like a string of unfinished thoughts.

Eventually, he pulled out a shirt and tried putting it on, only to discover that it was far too tight for him.

With an irritated groan, he yanked it off and tossed it aside as well.

Then he raised a finger toward me, gesturing for me to wait.

"I’ve got clothes in my car. What the hell am I doing?"

He sounded ridiculously cheerful today.

And why wouldn’t he?

He’d fucking caught me.

The moment he stepped outside to retrieve a clean shirt, I forced myself to try sitting up.

Some strength had finally returned to my body, but it was nowhere near enough.

My limbs still felt weak and uncooperative, and even the smallest movement demanded more energy than I had to spare.

Unfortunately, by the time he returned, I still hadn’t managed to move.

He walked back into the bedroom, adjusting the collar of his fresh black shirt from behind his neck.

Of course, he had chosen black. The bastard knew perfectly well how good he looked in it.

He approached the bed, rolling up his sleeves as he came to stand beside me.

I watched him glance around, searching for something, until his gaze settled on a blanket.

He picked it up and carefully draped it over me, taking his time to make sure I was properly covered.

Then he leaned over me, slipping one hand beneath my head to lift it slightly while reaching for a pillow on my other side.

As he bent closer, I caught the familiar scent of his chest, so close that the tip of my nose brushed against him.

And what happened next was almost laughable.