Chapter 385: Your Wife Is a Jinx, Isn’t She?

Chapter 385: Chapter 385: Your Wife Is a Jinx, Isn’t She?

The expression on Clark Crowe’s face turned foul as he watched Aunt Crowe and Aaron Crowe reach for Wendy Dawson on the altar.

His hands were clenched into tight fists, and his gaze was fierce, as if warning them.

Evan Crowe smiled faintly. "Don’t be so anxious, cousin," he said in a calm, unhurried tone. "This is all part of the ritual."

"Don’t worry, we know what we’re doing. We won’t go too far."

Beside them, Aaron Crowe had already eagerly turned on his camera and was searching for the best angle.

Aunt Crowe placed her hand on Wendy Dawson’s sash. Just as she was about to untie it, a blood-curdling scream tore through the air from outside.

The shriek was piercing and shrill.

Aaron Crowe, who was still trying to find a good angle, froze stiff. He knew that voice all too well.

That was his mother’s voice!

"Is that Mrs. Crowe’s voice? Did something happen?" Evan Crowe had recognized it too. He turned toward the door, frowning as he asked.

Aunt Crowe rubbed her temples, annoyed. The auspicious hour was almost upon them, and now this had to happen.

But she had to go check. They’d given strict orders for none of the servants to be out tonight.

If she wanted to find out what had happened, she’d have to see for herself.

"Fine, let’s go see what’s going on," Aunt Crowe said, pulling her hand back.

Worried about his mother, Aaron Crowe no longer paid any mind to Wendy Dawson lying on the altar and hurried outside.

Evan Crowe cast a regretful glance at Wendy Dawson, then followed the others.

After everyone else had left, Clark Crowe stepped forward. He reached out and gently caressed his wife’s face. "Wendy, don’t worry," he said. "I will give you the purest, most perfect wedding."

"Sleep now. When you wake up, everything will be back to normal."

With that, Clark Crowe leaned down and kissed the corner of Wendy Dawson’s mouth before straightening up and heading outside.

Once all the Crowes had gone, Zoe Sawyer pushed the door ajar. "What now?" she asked.

She was concerned about that scream and wanted to investigate, but they were supposed to be unconscious. If they went out now, they’d reveal they’d been faking it all along.

On top of that, Zoe Sawyer was worried about Wendy Dawson’s condition, but she couldn’t make any rash moves.

’Who knows if there are hidden cameras in this room?’

’I can’t risk it.’

Heath Hale thought for a moment before shaking his head. "We lay low for now. We don’t have a clear picture of the situation yet, so we can’t risk exposing ourselves."

"Let’s wait a little longer. We might find out what’s going on soon enough. You keep an eye on Wendy Dawson. I’ll watch the door. If you hear anything, do what you did before—play unconscious."

Zoe Sawyer considered it and finally nodded.

’It seems like that’s our only option right now.’

Soon, there was a new development.

In addition to the four people who had just left—Clark Crowe and the others—three more people entered from outside.

Zoe Sawyer took a careful look and quickly put names to faces: Mrs. Crowe, and Evan Crowe’s parents.

However, unlike the others, Mrs. Crowe was being carried in on her son Aaron Crowe’s back.

It was then that Zoe Sawyer noticed that the cuffs of their pants and sleeves, as well as the hems of their clothes, were all stained with a red liquid.

Also, someone was missing.

The red stains on their clothes, their pale faces, and the state of Mrs. Crowe and her son...

All these unsettling details gave Zoe Sawyer a sinking feeling.

"Heath Hale, get over here. We’ve got a situation," Zoe Sawyer whispered, quickly beckoning him over.

Once he was there, the Crowes started stirring.

"How could this happen? Tomorrow is the big day! How could my eldest brother have an accident at a time like this?" Aunt Crowe looked vexed, pacing back and forth in the room before finally kicking the base of the altar.

"Eldest Brother died a truly gruesome death," Second Uncle Crowe muttered. "One minute he’s fine, the next he’s crushed by a wine barrel. And a full one, at that. Now, not only is his head gone, but we’ll have to relocate the wine cellar. All the nearby wine is ruined, too."

"Honestly, if he wasn’t strong enough, he shouldn’t have tried to get it himself. He should’ve known his own limits," Second Uncle Crowe grumbled, his tone full of dissatisfaction.

Although he tried to keep his voice down, the room was silent, so everyone present heard him loud and clear.

Mrs. Crowe, who had just been helped to a sofa, heard this and could no longer hold back, bursting into loud sobs.

Seeing his mother crying inconsolably, Aaron Crowe clenched his fists and lunged forward. "What the hell are you spouting that nonsense for?!"

"My dad is dead! Instead of grieving for him, you’re blaming him for ruining the wine?"

Just as his fists were about to connect with Second Uncle Crowe’s face, Evan Crowe intercepted him.

"Aaron, what did my dad say that was wrong? The fact is, our eldest uncle climbed up there himself, lost his footing, fell, and knocked over the wine barrel. That’s how he died."

"Instead of wasting your time being angry, you should be thinking about how much money your dad left you. You know our uncle had a lot of shady friends and was always a big spender."

Evan Crowe didn’t finish his sentence, but his implication was crystal clear.

Aaron Crowe’s expression contorted.

He knew perfectly well what his father was like. The share of the family money he’d been given was already nearly gone.

He had been waiting for Clark Crowe to complete the ritual so he could take a few things from the estate, sell them, and maintain his lavish, freewheeling lifestyle.

But now that his father was dead, how much would he get?

’If I run out of money later, I’ll have to rely on these people. No, I can’t afford to make enemies of them.’

’Even for the money, I can’t.’

Once Aaron Crowe understood this, his expression turned grim, but he slowly lowered his fists and acted as if nothing had happened.

Seeing how his son had shut down the hot-tempered Aaron with just a few words, a satisfied smile spread across Second Uncle Crowe’s face.

Just then, a faint sound came from the altar. Clark Crowe strode over to stand guard beside it.

Wendy Dawson, who had been unconscious after being drugged, slowly opened her eyes to see Clark Crowe’s face hovering over her.

"Wendy, you’re awake! Are you feeling alright?" Clark Crowe suddenly pulled Wendy Dawson into an embrace, his voice thick with excitement.

Wendy Dawson glanced around, bewildered, as if she didn’t understand why she was here.

But upon hearing Clark Crowe’s voice, she answered, "I’m fine, don’t worry."

"It was probably just my first time on such a long flight. My body just couldn’t adjust, so I slept for a long time."

Although she found the situation incredibly strange, Wendy Dawson knew she was the only outsider there. It wouldn’t be wise to make a scene, so she pretended not to have noticed anything as she reassured Clark.

"Clark, I think your wife is a jinx."