Chapter 45 How Could You Die
Chapter 45 How Could You Die
After hearing these words, Peyton was dumbfounded, aggrieved and angry, and she was very sad.
When she was slapped by the old Mrs Knight, she did not dare to get angry. When she was scolded by
the old Mrs Knight, she could not refute.
She had never suffered a loss in her life, but she was totally defeated by the old Mrs Knight!
What the old Mrs Knight said was clear enough.
Ruben could marry anyone except her.
Did that mean her killing Samantha would end up helping others?
No, she would never accept it!
Seeing the change of Peyton's eyes, the old Mrs Knight sneered, "Well, it's late at night. Miss Moore
shall go back to rest now. You are a big star in the spotlight. Be careful when you are with my son. If
there is gossips about my from any media, you’ll be in big trouble."
Was she asking her to leave?
Peyton was so embarrassed that she wanted to bury herself in a cave. The old Mrs Knight must be the
most ruthless.
Ruben took the opportunity to wipe the blood on his forehead, "I'll drive her back."
Peyton was overjoyed, but instantly her joy dissipated because of what the old Mrs Knight said next.
"What? Doesn't Miss Moore have a driver? Does she need you to drive her in person?" The old Mrs
Knight looked at her son faintly, with helplessness and resentment in her eyes.
Samantha was such a good girl. How can the fire of the mental hospital be so coincidental?
Peyton's face turned red with shame. "No, I'll go back first and call upon Aunt another day.
Peyton walked away staggering with her bag in her hand, as if there were cannibals here.
It was not until Peyton left that atmosphere in the living room was eased up.
But the old Mrs Knight obviously did not intend to let it go.
"Peyton is innocent, you should not take it out on her," Ruben said, looking down.
Although he was the president of the Knight group, who could call the shots, but when he returned to
the Knight's house, he was the filial son in front of the old Mrs Knight.
The old Mrs Knight devoted herself to raising him on her own, which took a lot of hard work.
"If I don’t take it out on her, should I take it out on you?" Raising her eyebrows, the old Mrs Knight
asked seriously.
Ruben choked and asked with deep eyes, "Mom, what exactly do you want?"
"Nothing." Mrs Knight said and seemed to mean something, "I heard that the Samantha’s brother came
to you in the Knight Group. Are you OK? "
"Now you are caring about me." Ruben said as he suddenly thought of Helena.
The old Mrs Knight smiled softly, "Aren't you alright? I heard that there was a Helena who shielded you.
"
Mrs Knight smiled and seemed to mean something. Ruben asked, squinting his eyes, "What’s your
point?"
Without replying him, the old Mrs Knight changed the topic and took out a red invitation letter from her
handbag.
"A month later, it's the old Mrs Baker's birthday party. You attend on behalf of me."
Ruben refused directly, “No.”
"There's no choice, you have to go." The old Mrs Knight's attitude was as strong as ever.
Actually, she and Ruben were quite close. They were more like friends than mother and son.
Ignoring how her son felt, the old Mrs Knight was satisfied that her purpose had been achieved.
"I’ll go first. There’s a gift I left in the room. It is for Helena. Thank her for saving your life."
The old Mrs Knight walked out in her high heel, leaving Ruben alone in the room and his eyes widened.
Gifts?
He couldn’t believe that her mother, who rarely came back, would brought Helena a gift. From NôvelDrama.Org.
Thank her for saving his life?
Needless to say, his mother must have found out the background of Helena.
"Samantha. Where is she buried? " The old Mrs Knight, who came to the entrance, suddenly stopped.
Her voice was a little dumb. "I’ll see her tomorrow."
A sadness flashed across Ruben's eyes, and he said lightly,
"The Oliver Public Cemetery."
The old Mrs Knight took a breath to conceal the grief in her eyes, and asked softly.
"Do you regret it?"
Her voice was too light, like a gust of wind, which brought a chill penetrating the bone marrow.
Do you regret it?
Ruben stood in the light with a gloomy look, thinking about the question from Mrs Knight.
These words, like a knife soaking in the cold pool, stabbed at his heart.
The cold pain began to spread.
Did he regret it?
What did he regret? Did he regret putting her in a mental hospital? Or did he regret that he failed to
save her and she couldn’t give birth the child?
He didn't know.
……
Samantha took a taxi to the Knight's house. The taxi and a low-key but lexury car pass by each other.
Through the window, she saw the old Mrs Knight sitting in the car.
Although she was far away from her, Samantha recognized the old Mrs Knight at a glance.
Mrs Knight was nice to her, but she seldom came back to the country. She was unable to help her even
if she wants to ask for help.
If she had asked for help from the old Mrs Knight, her child...
Her thoughts began to wander as she caressed her flat abdomen with her fingers, and her heart
suddenly felt a pain.
Would her baby survive?
But there was no if’s, and it was the truth that her child died.
Then she would make Ruben and Peyton pay!
What Peyton cared about most was Ruben, so she wanted Peyton to lose her love.
Samantha stepped into the living room of the Knight’s house.
As soon as she came, she felt the smell of the war that had just finished, and the extremely suffocating
atmosphere.
Ruben sat on the sofa, with his one hand holding his bleeding forehead and the other grasping the
sofa.
He drank a lot tonight, and he seemed to be drunk from the way he looked.
Dillon came up to her and whispered a few words, then gave her the sobering soup.
Samantha was stunned for a moment and she did as Dillon said, although she did not know what had
just happened.
She walked close to him with the sobering soup. Maybe it was the light. She saw the lonely expression
on his face.
Samantha was just about to speak.
"Who?" A cold voice came.
She was startled and stopped slowly.
"It's me." She held back her hatred in her heart and said in a low voice.
Hearing her voice, Ruben slowly raised his head, and blood dripping down from the forehead down
blurred his vision.
He stammered a little, which was obvious that he got drunk.
"What are you doing here?
Samantha went to him and sat down, pouring the sobering soup into his mouth.
"To see if you're dead." Samantha's voice was cold and indifferent.
Ruben frowned and he coughed hard because of her rude action, and a lot of sobering soup came out
of his mouth.
"You hate me so much? Why?" Ruben's voice was low and confused.
Samantha said, looking at him coldly, "Since you can talk, it seems you are fine."
Ruben managed to contain the anger in his heart. The alcohol made his consciousness vague, and the
woman’s impatient tone seemed to remind him of Samantha.
He opened his eyes and reached out to caress her face.
"Samantha, why? "You didn’t stop torturing me after you died.
Hearing the man’s drunken murmur, Samantha was shocked and the bowl in her hand almost fell to the
ground when she heard Samantha.
He was calling her Samantha?
Why?
"Samantha was killed by you long ago. Why are you acting like this?" She was cold in tone, with a deep
hatred and ridicule.
There was a loud voice in the ear membrane of Ruben. Neither could he understand what she was
saying, nor could he see her clearly.
But the manner and tone of her speech made him feel familiar.
"Yes, she died..." He laughed suddenly, and his voice was dumb and low. "She died long ago..."
But why? Samantha still kept torturing him.
Did he do something wrong?
Was he really wrong?
Samantha looked at him in a daze, a mixed feeling surging over her, and tears welled up her eyes.
Ruben, if you owe me, you would pay it back with all you have.
Samantha was about to break away from him when he pulled her arm back to his chest as if he felt
something.
Well...
She didn’t expect that he would hug her.
Samantha was stunned.
She tried her best not to feel his warmth and breath, because it reminded her of how humble she was.
Trying to push him away, she was held even tighter.
She had wished to throw herself into the man's solid and powerful embrace for ten years.
When she was in despair, how eager she wanted him to show up and give her a hug.
But what was she waiting for?
Disfigurement, miscarriage, stigma..
He never believed her, and now he has only a little bit of guilt.
What can guilt be replaced?
That was not enough.
His chest was hot as fire, but all Samantha could feel was coldness, and her limbs seemed to be frozen
by cold flow.
Her fingertips tremble.
"Samantha..." He hugged her and called her name again and again.
The two hearts were closely attached to each other through thin clothes, and she felt his strong heart
beat and her breath stopped.
"You lied to me, didn't you? How can you die? "