Chapter 119

"Please..." She knelt on the cold marble floor, her delicate fingers clutching desperately at the hem of the man's trousers, her knuckles turning white from the strain.

The man looked down at her, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Now you beg?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, splashing onto the polished floor. Once a proud heiress, she now cowered like a stray dog.

"I'll do anything..." Her voice trembled with despair. "Just spare my father..."

The man bent down, his long fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. The warmth that once filled his eyes had vanished, replaced by an icy chill.

"Too late," he murmured, his voice deceptively soft. "The moment you betrayed me, this was inevitable."

She shuddered, her nails digging into her palms until blood seeped between her fingers—yet she felt no pain.

"I was wrong..." she choked out between sobs. "I know I was wrong..."

Abruptly, he released her, and she collapsed to the floor. He turned toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, his silhouette rigid and unfeeling.

"If you want to beg, then beg properly," he said without looking back. "Take it off."

Her head snapped up, disbelief written across her face. Outside, lightning split the sky, casting an eerie glow over his sharp profile—and her ashen complexion.

"What? Not willing?" He let out a cold laugh. "Then prepare to bury your father."

She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. With trembling hands, she slowly reached for the collar of her dress...

Samuel Bright frowned deeply, clearly shocked by the news.

"This isn't simple," he muttered. "Even if your girl's brother was framed, it's too late to prove it now."

Charles Clark stood nearby, looking as if all the life had been drained from him. His rough fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of his shirt, his knuckles turning white.

Seeing this, matchmaker Lucy Smith quickly tried to smooth things over. "Samuel's right. Settling this will cost a fortune." She patted Charles' shoulder reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'll find you a better girl—one whose family won't give you trouble."

Samuel pulled Charles away, noticing how his arm trembled.

"Stop thinking about it," Samuel sighed. "The Lees are a bottomless pit. That widow's family will keep extorting money over this. Come on, let's go fishing by the river. We'll have a good meal at Daniel's tonight."

Charles nodded numbly, his eyes hollow as if his soul had left his body.

Just as they reached the village entrance, a frantic voice called out—

"Charles! Charles!"

A girl in a patched floral dress came running after them, her braids bouncing, tear tracks still fresh on her cheeks.

Samuel immediately stepped in front of Charles, blocking her. "Margaret Lee, it's over between you two."

"No!" Margaret stomped her foot in frustration. "It was all my father's idea, not mine!" Her tear-filled eyes pleaded with Charles. "Charles, believe me..."

Samuel scoffed. "Your family demanded an outrageous bride price—who could afford that? Now that you're in trouble, you suddenly remember Charles?"

Margaret's face paled. Her family was in chaos—her sister-in-law had divorced, and the widow's relatives kept harassing them, threatening to press indecency charges against her brother unless they paid up.

"Charles..." Her voice shook. "I know you have money. Please help me, and I swear I'll be a good wife to you..."

Charles jerked his head up, his expression conflicted.

Samuel laughed coldly. "See? She just wants to drain your savings for her family!"

"We..." Charles' voice was hoarse. "We're done."

Margaret suddenly dropped to her knees, tears soaking her dress. "I'm begging you, Charles... Without money, my family is finished..."

Charles turned away, fists clenched so tight they trembled. "I can't help you."

Margaret collapsed to the ground, her desperation twisting into utter despair.