Reborn In a Murderer’s Embrace

Upstairs, Colin had somehow snuck in without me noticing, and when I caught sight of him, he was chuckling to himself. As our eyes met, the laughter in his eyes quickly turned to an expression of pain. “Phoebe… it hurts so much, I can’t sleep.”

What could I do? I sighed and went up to comfort him, feeling like I somehow owed him.

“Phoebe… rub it for me?” Colin pleaded from the bed, stretching out his arms for a soothing touch.

My mind was elsewhere, but I started to massage him absentmindedly.

Henry wasn’t going to let things slide, not after Colin’s mishap, followed by my own troubles and then Brendan’s departure. Henry’s tactics were just too ruthless…

“Phoebe, my chest hurts too,” Colin said, pointing to his heart. NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

I was deep in thought, but wherever he said it hurt, I’d rub.

I have to admit, his pecs were quite solid. Where had he been working out during his years on the road? Must be those good genes, making those who spend every day in the gym green with envy.

“Phoebe, my stomach hurts too.” Colin looked at me with a mischievous glint in his eye, clearly pushing his luck.

My thoughts were on how to retaliate against Henry after his string of ‘gifts.’

Colin guided my hand to his stomach, and I obliged him with a rub.

I must say, it felt good; his muscles were well–defined.

But my mind wasn’t on admiring him. The fact that Henry was in cahoots with Damian was the real headache.

It was probably Dexter who brokered the connection; that guy never did anything decent.

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got.

And to think they had Colin beaten up like this…

1 3 = F <3 <= ?

What good could come from Henry and Damian teaming up?

As for Damian, I couldn’t remember exactly what he had done to me; my lost memories included him, and it seemed there was a sense of dread associated with him.

“Phoebe, it hurts here too…” Colin continued, moving my hand lower.

I was propped up on one hand, lost in thought, when he guided my hand…

I snapped back to reality and instinctively slapped his hand away.

Colin curled up, wincing in pain and clutching his lower belly.

“Phoebe, you’re murdering your husband.”

My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I grabbed his ear and threatened, “Shut it.”

Colin obediently clamped his mouth shut, turned over, and burrowed his head into the soft pillow as if he were trying to suffocate himself.

I sighed helplessly and patted his head. “Colin… about Brendan’s funeral, what are you going to do? It’s got to be grand; the bigger, the better. Get the media involved; you need to cry and play the part of the grieving grandson.”

I whispered, knowing full well how difficult this was for him.

H

Brendan hadn’t been kind to Colin; more often than not, he was harsh and abusive.

They ignored Colin, knowing he existed, but still left him in the orphanage until they realized he was a prodigy and wanted to bring him back to the Langley family to add to their prestige.

But after he ‘lost his mind‘ and the prodigy aura faded, they discarded him mercilessly, even… trying to completely destroy this blemish.

The evil in human nature was truly embodied by the Langley family.

“The funeral, can’t do it,” Colin mumbled into the pillow, his voice deep and laced with

resentment.

“Can’t do it?” I paused, aghast. Skipping the funeral wasn’t an option.

Henry was using this event to publicize himself as the current head of the Langley family, suggesting that he should manage the Langley Group.

“Argh.”

A knocking on the door interrupted us, followed by barking.

I knew it meant a stranger was at the door. But nobody was supposed to know Colin was staying here.

“Coly.”

I opened the door to see the deaf–mute man, who communicated with me through sign language and his imperfect speech, telling me that Coly had returned.

I looked at him in surprise and hurried downstairs.

Robin must have taken Çoly to the hospital; he must be out of danger now.