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The RISE Of NATHALIA CARTER

The wedding day. A moment that most women treasured with but not with her. She was poisoned on her own wedding day; Nathalia Carter died full of hatred for her father and fiance. How could she accept that they murdered her? Nathalia gaped at Evette Carter, her step-sister, who was now laughing at her stupidity. Evette is one of the culprits behind her painful death. Demons. They are all demons. Nathalia thought in silence while she closed her eyes as consciousness abandoned her. With rage and tears, Nathalia cursed them and promised to take revenge if given a chance to survive. Suddenly, God hears her prayer and gives her a second chance, and she is allowed to come back to seek revenge. This time, she will not be so naive. She becomes fiercer and eager to bring justice to her own death. She would make sure they got what they deserved in this life. Revenge. Torture. Take everything they had. Make them suffer ten times worse than what they did to her. Along the way, her life changed when she met the notorious playboy- Spencer Davidson. He aims to take her as his woman and help her to fulfill her desire to take revenge. Love, Revenge, and Mystery played along the way. Giving her the most challenging part as she journeyed through her new life. Cover Created by: Weilan Wanna know more about the story, follow me on Instagram: annashannellin

AnnaShannel_Lin · perkotaan
Peringkat tidak cukup
895 Chs

Chapter 135: Don’t Play Innocent

"I'm armed," she said, raising her voice. "Stay away. I have a knife."

"No, you don't," the figure croaked.

Her knees shook beneath her, and she collapsed onto the floor. She tried to get up, but her legs didn't seem to work. She scrambled and struggled, and the figure laughed in short, dry rasps.

"I'll call the police," she said.

"No, you won't," the figure croaked.

"I will," she insisted.

"They won't help," the figure said. "If the police were good for anything, I'd still have my hand." 

She froze—there was something about the voice that sounded strangely familiar.

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"Guess," the figure said.

"I have no idea," she said, feeling a panicked sob shake in her chest. "I—I— swear."

"Oh, but you do know who I am, Madison," he said.

Her heart beat faster, and another sob shook her chest. How did the intruder know her name? What else did he know?