Chapter 391: You’ve Already Ruined My Life

Chapter 391: Chapter 391: You’ve Already Ruined My Life

The servants in the main house had long since hidden in their rooms during the Crowes’ confrontation, terrified of getting drawn into their masters’ struggles.

As for calling the police?

If they called the police without a signal from the family, they’d lose their jobs for sure.

It was Crowe family business, after all. The family members themselves weren’t reacting, so it was best for them to stay put.

Because they all understood this, everyone from the butler down to the gate guards stayed huddled in their rooms or at their posts, not daring to peek out and see what was happening.

This also gave the Crowes a perfect opportunity to make their move.

After the incident, Aunt Crowe had become reluctant to be near anyone, always feeling they were secretly mocking her. She had moved her room to a different floor, away from First Uncle Crowe, Second Uncle Crowe, and the others.

However, this also made things incredibly convenient for Clark Crowe.

If he went over now, no one else would notice.

Clark Crowe knocked on the door. Hearing movement inside, he licked the corner of his mouth, a flicker of excitement in his eyes.

"Who is it?" Aunt Crowe’s voice was filled with impatience.

The manor’s rooms didn’t have peepholes. Besides, only a member of the Crowe family would come looking for her at this time, so her voice was filled with impatience.

Clark Crowe didn’t say a word. He just stood at the door, the hand gripping a dagger hidden behind his back.

Waiting at the door and getting no reply, the impatient Aunt Crowe opened it a crack, wanting to see who was outside.

But as soon as she did, Clark Crowe seized the opportunity, shoving the door wide open and forcing his way inside.

"What are you doing? Clark Crowe!"

Aunt Crowe shrieked. Just as she was about to shout for Evan Crowe and the others, Clark Crowe clamped a hand over her mouth.

Clark Crowe kicked the door shut and pressed the dagger against her face.

"Aunt, I’m just here to repay your kindness~ Aren’t you happy?" Clark Crowe’s voice was sinister. He lifted the dagger slightly and patted her cheek with the flat of the blade.

"Clark Crowe, what are you trying to do?" Aunt Crowe swallowed hard, her eyes darting to the side to look at the dagger against her cheek, her voice tense.

Seeing his aunt’s expression, Clark Crowe couldn’t help but laugh. "Weren’t you so arrogant before? Didn’t you always go on about how you saved my life?

Do you really think I have no memory of what happened then? If you hadn’t thrown a tantrum in the car, demanding my mom give you that thing, would my dad have been distracted and crashed?

After the crash, all you had to do was call for help right away and pull them out of the car. They could have been saved.

Did you think I was unconscious when you pulled me out, that I didn’t know anything? The truth is, I was awake the whole time."

As he said this, Clark Crowe’s hand slid down from Aunt Crowe’s mouth and viciously clamped around her neck.

’She always thought I was too young to remember. After my parents died in the crash, she constantly lorded it over me, always saying, "I saved you, I’m your great benefactor." Her words were filled with veiled threats.

As I grew up, Aunt Crowe became even more shameless. Anytime I defied her in the slightest, she would use the fact she "saved my life" to blackmail me into doing what she wanted.

If she took a liking to any of my parents’ belongings, she would just demand them outright.

In the beginning, I was too young and powerless, so I could only grit my teeth and endure it, watching as Aunt Crowe used her "heroism" as an excuse to keep me down and take whatever she wanted.

Now, I’m strong. And the aunt who suppressed me my entire life has grown old. She even dared to lay a hand on my wife. I can’t tolerate it for another second.

If I don’t get revenge for my parents and justice for Wendy, then what’s the difference between me and a piece of trash!’ ℯℯ𝑙.

At that thought, Clark Crowe couldn’t stop his hand from tightening its grip on Aunt Crowe’s neck.

Aunt Crowe frantically slapped at Clark Crowe’s hand, trying to make him let go, but the hand on her neck was like an iron vise. No matter how hard she struggled, it didn’t budge an inch.

The feeling of suffocation intensified. Aunt Crowe felt that if she didn’t do something, she was going to die right there.

She kicked out hard at the door, hoping the noise would attract the attention of Evan Crowe and the others downstairs, and that they would come up to save her.

The loud bang from the kick did indeed get the attention of those downstairs. Evan Crowe opened his door and frowned, glancing toward Aunt Crowe’s room.

’What kind of trouble is that unwanted old hag stirring up now?

Is she smashing things again?’

Before he could say anything, a fruit knife was suddenly plunged into his chest.

"Ugh!"

Blood dripped down from the hilt of the knife in his chest.

Evan Crowe looked down and saw that Mrs. Crowe had, at some point, crouched down by the door to their rooms. Her face was blank as she held the knife she had just plunged into his chest.

First Aunt Crowe applied a little more force, shoving it in deeper.

The words he was about to speak were cut off. Evan Crowe’s eyes widened in disbelief.

’Wasn’t it enough that she killed her own son? Did she have to go after her nephew, too?’

"What’s wrong?" Seeing his son standing motionless at the door and hearing a dripping sound, Second Uncle Crowe walked over, curious to see what was happening.

As soon as he got close, he saw the pool of blood on the floor and Mrs. Crowe crouching in front of Evan Crowe.

And that pool of blood was flowing from his own son.

"Evan! My son!"

Second Uncle Crowe let out a wail, his hands trembling. Before he could make another move, Mrs. Crowe lunged at him, knocking him to the ground.

The fruit knife that had been in Evan Crowe’s chest was now pulled out and held against Second Uncle Crowe’s neck.

The sound of father and son falling to the ground at the same time attracted Second Aunt Crowe from inside. She came out, muttering curses, wanting to see what was going on.

The moment she stepped out, she saw her husband and son collapsed on the floor.

One was facedown, blood endlessly pouring from his chest, his life hanging by a thread. The other was pinned to the floor by Mrs. Crowe—a woman she had always looked down on—with a knife held to his throat.

If Second Uncle Crowe made a single move, the knife would slice his throat in the next second.

"Mrs. Crowe, Mrs. Crowe, let’s talk this out. That knife is too dangerous, let’s put it aside, okay?" Second Aunt Crowe didn’t dare make a reckless move. She wanted to go check on her son, but she saw that whenever she moved, Mrs. Crowe would press the knife down a little harder.

It drew a thin red line on Second Uncle Crowe’s neck, and blood began to seep out.

Afraid this madwoman in front of her would actually do it, Second Aunt Crowe could only stand frozen in place, her expression frantic as she looked at her son on the floor.

"Not a single one of you in the Crowe family is a good person. Guess how long I’ve been waiting for this day?" Mrs. Crowe chuckled. Her voice was soft, but to the members of the second branch, it landed like a clap of thunder.

"Mrs. Crowe, if you kill them now, you’ll go to prison all the same. There’s no need for us to take each other down. Can’t we just live our own separate lives?" Second Aunt Crowe tried to persuade her sister-in-law to give up.

"But my life... was already ruined by all of you."