With trembling hands, Faye grabbed his sleeve, her eyes filled with unshed tears. Her voice was weak, fragile—like she was barely holding on.
"Brother… don’t blame Sister-in-law…" she gasped, each breath labored. "She just… couldn’t stand me winning the award… She acted on impulse… Don’t be mad at her…" Her lips quivered as she clutched her chest. "Brother… my heart… it hurts so much… Am I… going to die?"
Her performance was flawless.
The blood pooling beneath her looked terrifying, but I knew the truth—her wound was shallow. It wasn’t fatal. But Tristan didn’t see that.
His gaze snapped to me, burning with fury.
"Eliza, what did Faye ever do to deserve this?" His voice was ice, his body trembling with rage. "If anything happens to her, I will never forgive you."
I opened my mouth to explain, but he wasn’t listening. He scooped Faye into his arms and rushed her into the car, leaving me standing there in the cold.
Moments later, his men arrived. They seized me roughly, dragging me toward another car. I struggled, screamed, but it was useless. I was taken to the hospital against my will.