Chapter 6
Luke stared at the phone screen, his eyes locked onto the roaring flames consuming his home. Every trace of color drained from
his face.
Faced with undeniable truth-
He still chose to deceive himself.
“No… No, that’s impossible,” he murmured.
“Natalie can’t be dead. There were housekeepers. And she had her wheelchair—she had to have escaped.
“She promised me… She said she would be my wife. How could she be dead?”
Michael hesitated, a flicker of pity crossing his face. “Mr. Quinton… That night, you ordered all the servants to leave as
punishment for Ms. Johnson.”
Luke’s breath hitched.
Michael continued, his voice quieter now. “And you also had her wheelchair taken away. Given her condition… I’m afraid…”
A deafening ringing filled Luke’s head.
He didn’t dare imagine it—didn’t dare picture Natalie alone when the explosion happened–trapped, helpless, terrified.
She had no legs.
