Chapter 392: On a Rampage

Chapter 392: Chapter 392: On a Rampage

Mrs. Crowe’s tone was still light and airy, but the words she spoke sent a chill down the spines of Second Uncle Crowe and his wife.

"Do you know? I actually died long ago, during my purification ritual.

I begged you to stop, but you didn’t hold back at all. Especially you. When your hands were on me, do you know how disgusted I was?

Back then, I wanted nothing more than to grab a knife and chop off all your hands!"

As she spoke, Mrs. Crowe glared viciously at Second Uncle Crowe, her voice filled with hatred. She pressed the knife a little deeper.

Feeling the escalating pain in his neck, Second Uncle Crowe’s fear reached its peak.

’This woman... she really wants to kill me!’

As he had this thought, a foul, acrid smell wafted up from behind him.

"Back then, you secretly took pictures of me. You’d use those photos to threaten me from time to time, forcing me to be your secret lover and cheat on your older brother.

Your older brother is a spineless coward, too. He actually found out the very first time, but he didn’t dare say a word. After being cheated on, the only thing he could do was take his anger out on me.

During that time, my body was covered in bruises from his beatings. And it’s all thanks to you! Even that good-for-nothing Aaron Crowe... he’s your son!"

At this, Mrs. Crowe’s rage became uncontrollable. She raised the knife and, as Second Uncle Crowe and his wife watched in terror, viciously stabbed it into his shoulder.

A searing pain shot through him, making Second Uncle Crowe cry out in agony.

But Mrs. Crowe’s words made his mind go blank.

’What did she mean, Aaron was his son?’

Second Uncle Crowe’s thoughts began to drift. Over the past decade or so, he had indeed felt that Aaron Crowe resembled him. ℯℯ𝑙.

But back then, he had just assumed it was normal for an uncle and nephew to look alike. He never imagined that Aaron was actually his own son.

Second Aunt Crowe’s expression flickered through several changes, but she relaxed slightly at the thought that Aaron Crowe was already dead.

Mrs. Crowe felt that ever since her marriage, her life had been steeped in bitterness. On the surface, she wanted for nothing, with all the food and clothes she could desire.

But in reality, only she knew how miserable her life truly was.

After the incident, she had considered ending it all with death. But First Uncle Crowe, that coward who was only brave against his own family, told her that if she dared to commit suicide, he would go after her family.

The Crowe Family was rich, after all. If they offered enough money, there would always be desperate people willing to take the job.

Mrs. Crowe was close with her family and didn’t want to see them get hurt, so she could only grit her teeth and promise she wouldn’t commit suicide.

To make her life a little more bearable, Mrs. Crowe brainwashed herself with all sorts of psychological suggestions, forcing herself to fall in love with First Uncle Crowe.

This act went on for over twenty years. After she became pregnant, Second Uncle Crowe stopped his advances on his own. With her deliberate concealment, the rest of the Crowes never discovered that Aaron Crowe was actually the second brother’s son.

Gradually, Mrs. Crowe’s self-brainwashing succeeded. She came to believe she truly loved her husband and dutifully played the part of a virtuous wife and loving mother.

But that entire balance was shattered last night.

First Uncle Crowe died.

The hatred Mrs. Crowe had suppressed deep in her heart was suddenly unleashed, and she was so ecstatic she cried out loud.

But Aaron Crowe had utterly humiliated his own mother, calling her useless.

Only then did Mrs. Crowe remember that the person before her was not her son—he was the son of her enemy.

Driven by hatred, Mrs. Crowe found an opportunity in the gym and killed Aaron Crowe.

’With the first one dead, the rest can’t be allowed to escape.’

Her sister-in-law, Second Aunt Crowe, had relied on the backing of her in-laws and husband to constantly belittle her ever since marrying into the family.

That little bastard Evan Crowe was no good either. He looked gentle and agreeable on the surface, but he was full of malice underneath, always instigating trouble and fanning the flames from behind the scenes.

’None of them are any good. Might as well kill them all.’

And that led to the scene before them now.

Mrs. Crowe pulled herself from her memories. Looking at the terrified couple, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear a little shyly and said, "Don’t worry. The servants are all in their rooms. They won’t come out to disturb us.

There are no security cameras in the manor, either. People probably won’t notice something is wrong until after you’re both dead."

Second Aunt Crowe’s voice trembled. "Aren’t you afraid I’ll call for Clark Crowe right now? If you let my husband go, I can pretend none of this ever happened."

As she spoke, Second Aunt Crowe’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something she could use to fight back.

But unfortunately, even if there was, it wasn’t anything she could wield.

"Clark Crowe? He’s upstairs dealing with my sister-in-law. I doubt he’ll be down anytime soon." Mrs. Crowe smiled faintly, shattering their fantasy. "They say villains die from talking too much. In that case, I suppose I should get down to business."

With that, Mrs. Crowe plunged the knife back into the wound on Second Uncle Crowe’s shoulder and gave it a twist.

As if one wasn’t enough, she repeated the action on his other shoulder.

The intense pain made Second Uncle Crowe howl, and the wounds in his shoulders completely extinguished any thought of resistance.

Seeing Mrs. Crowe raise the knife high and aim for his neck, he hurriedly begged for mercy. "I was wrong, Mrs. Crowe! Mrs. Crowe, I was wrong! Spare me, please, I beg you! I’ll never again..."

Before he could finish, Mrs. Crowe’s knife came down.

Second Uncle Crowe’s eyes flew wide open as he died with an expression of utter disbelief.

Mrs. Crowe pulled out the knife, warm blood splattering onto her face. She got to her feet and walked toward Second Aunt Crowe, who was frozen in terror.

"Don’t... don’t come any closer.

Spare me, I’m begging you. If you just spare me, I won’t take anything from the Crowe Family. Please, just let me go." Watching Mrs. Crowe advance step by step, Second Aunt Crowe’s legs gave way, and she collapsed to the floor, begging ceaselessly.

But Mrs. Crowe was already in a killing frenzy, and besides, Second Aunt Crowe had bullied her in the past.

In the end, she raised the knife and, before the other woman’s terrified eyes, ended her life.

With three people now dead by her hand, Mrs. Crowe stood up and looked around.

She glanced up at the now-quiet third floor, thought for a moment, and decided to head for Clark Crowe and Wendy Dawson’s room.

She knew, of course, that the newly-wed Wendy Dawson was innocent. One could even call her a victim.

’But why?’

’Why did she get to be protected by her husband and friend? Why was she so lucky as to avoid the ritual?

While I had to go through it from start to finish? My husband not only didn’t protect me, he even laid a hand on me, the victim?’

’Since she married into the Crowe Family, she can be miserable, just like me.’

’I can’t be the only one to suffer.’

With these thoughts, Mrs. Crowe arrived at the door to Clark Crowe and Wendy Dawson’s room.

She knocked. There was no answer.

She pushed the door open and went inside, only to find the room empty.

"Who are you looking for, Aunt?"