Chapter 376: The Truth About Mrs Blackwell Senior

Whitney had only known part of the truth before. Hearing the full horror from Wisteria’s mouth all at once was too much. Her face turned pale, her hand flew to her mouth, and her body trembled like she couldn’t decide whether to cry or collapse.Wisteria walked toward her slowly, steps calm and almost casual, and bent until their faces were level.

"What’s wrong?" she asked with a mocking smile. "Just hearing it makes you sick, doesn’t it?"

"Oh, the great eldest daughter of the Sanders pack. So noble. So untouchable." She tilted her head. "You and your sister really are lucky. One comes back from the dead. The other — clearly a prisoner — is protected by Taylor." Her tone grew colder. "He keeps you locked under his control, and you think that’s unfair? Without him, you would have been killed a thousand times over. Used up. Thrown away. Dumped in the ocean for the fish."

Her gaze traced Whitney’s face slowly.

"Such a pretty face. Is this what you used to seduce Taylor?"

Something shifted in Wisteria’s eyes then — the calm mask slipping away into something wild. She grabbed a dagger, and the blade gleamed faintly as she lifted it toward Whitney’s face.

"Tell me," she said softly, dragging the tip lightly across Whitney’s cheek, "if I ruin your face... will Taylor still care about you? How dare he love you — an enemy of our pack!"

My chest tightened. "Whitney!"

Dominic moved instantly. A precise kick sent the dagger flying across the floor with a loud clatter.

His face turned ice-cold. "What are you doing?"

Silas’s death had clearly pushed Wisteria past the edge. She was like a wild horse that had broken free, running blindly toward destruction. Even the Carlyn pack was struggling to control her now.

Wisteria turned to Dominic with a twisted smile. "Uncle Dominic, why so nervous? Weren’t you the one who ruined your life for love? Happy to play the fool while Aunt Amber did whatever she wanted?" A quiet laugh. "And now you’re standing here pretending to be a protective father."

"Wisteria." Dominic’s voice dropped low and dangerous. "Don’t forget what you promised me."

It was obvious he was still protecting Whitney. It made sense — if something happened to her, Taylor would lose all control. That small realization gave me a measure of relief.

As for me, they didn’t dare touch me either. Most likely because of Amber. Dominic knew how much she cared about Carter, and since he believed my fate was tied to Carter’s, his people had always treated me with a strange, careful politeness. For a man as ruthless as Dominic, he still loved his wife and son deeply. Perhaps that was the only reason the daughters of his enemies were still alive. For that, I felt a reluctant and complicated gratitude.

Wisteria stepped back like a ghost retreating into shadow — then suddenly grabbed Josh’s hand, her expression twisting into the sweet, spoiled smile she wore whenever she wanted something.

"Daddy," she said lightly. "Go ahead. Otherwise Greg is going to bleed out soon."

Josh gripped the axe. His hands trembled violently. Even his legs shook.

Breaking a bone wasn’t like chopping wood. It couldn’t be done in one clean, decisive strike. And doing it to yourself — how many people in this world had the strength for that? If the first blow didn’t cut through cleanly, the pain would consume his entire body. What came after would be worse — a slow, grinding torture dragging him toward despair. That was exactly why the Carlyns had designed this deal. A fate worse than death was far more satisfying to them than a quick end.

Penelope bit her lip and crawled desperately toward Josh. Kate stood frozen, eyes darting between Josh and Greg’s pale, broken body. What could she even do? Offer her own leg? She wasn’t a Sanders by blood — only their daughter-in-law. The Carlyn hatred was aimed at the Sanders bloodline, not her.

Greg’s weak voice broke the silence. "Dad... don’t..."

Josh looked at Greg. Then his gaze slowly found mine.

His face revealed nothing. But after all the years I had called him Dad, I knew — he wanted to apologize. His pride simply wouldn’t allow the words out.

Without hesitation, he lifted the axe and brought it down hard onto his own shin, putting everything into that single strike, hoping to end it quickly.

"Honey!" "Dad!" "No!"

The cries crashed through the hall.

When the axe fell the first time, my chest went strangely numb — cold and hollow before my mind could catch up. But when it came down a second time, it felt like the blade had cut straight into my own heart.

There was nothing I could do. Begging for mercy would only entertain them more. The only thing — the smartest thing — was silence.

But when the sound of metal tearing through flesh and bone filled the room, I couldn’t stop myself from squeezing my eyes shut.

Behind me, Wisteria laughed — bright and excited, like a delighted child.

She stepped close and whispered in my ear. "Chloe, you should be happy. Have you forgotten how he used to yell at you? How he used to hit you?"

How could I forget? Those memories were carved into me.

But other memories rose alongside them, ones that refused to disappear.

"Chloe won an award again? That’s my girl!""Happy birthday, my little princess. Daddy will always love you."

Then the memories that followed.

"Don’t you feel ashamed? You disgust me."

And finally — that snowy night. Him kneeling before the broken statue that had once represented me, crying like a man who had lost everything.

I had loved him. Respected him. Hated him. But since coming back to this life, revenge against the Sanders had never once crossed my mind.

Wisteria pressed another dagger tip against my chin, her smile widening slowly.

"Watch carefully, dear sister. I’m avenging you." Her voice turned soft and sweet. "You should be smiling right now."

The smell of blood filled the air. When I looked at Josh’s destroyed leg, my stomach twisted violently and I bent forward, gagging.

Whitney had nearly fainted — her forehead cracked and bleeding from bowing against the ground repeatedly — yet she still clung to Dominic’s sleeve.

"Mr. Carlyn," she cried. "My father has done what you asked. Please let someone treat Greg’s wounds!"

Even now, Whitney was the only one thinking clearly. She knew Josh’s sacrifice couldn’t mean nothing.

Dominic stared at her bleeding forehead for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he kept his promise and allowed the doctor forward.

Wisteria clicked her tongue in disappointment.

Still covered in Greg’s blood, I walked to Penelope and helped her to her feet. I wanted to wipe the tears from her face — but when I looked down at my hands, sticky and red, I stopped.

"Grandma," I said hoarsely.

The woman who had always been proud and unyielding buried her face in my chest and wept uncontrollably.

Holding her trembling body, I asked quietly, "Is what the Carlyns said... true?"

Her voice shook as she began.

"That year, I wanted to gain favor with the warlord. He had taken an interest in Mrs. Carlyn Senior. Those were chaotic times — your grandfather was useless, and we had no choice but to rely on the warlord to survive. To climb higher, I used whatever means I could." She trembled. "I thought it would only be a one-night affair. But the warlord truly fell for her and refused to let her go. His mate was ruthless — he didn’t dare keep Mrs. Carlyn Senior in his own home, so he hid her in ours. We were forced to lock her in the basement."

Penelope’s voice cracked. "I never imagined that one selfish decision would destroy an entire family."

"No secret stays hidden forever. When the warlord’s mate discovered everything, she had Mrs. Carlyn Senior sent to powerful men... humiliated by lowlifes. When the Carlyns came demanding justice, the warlord had them beaten to death on the spot." Tears ran down her face. "Chloe... everything that happened to the Carlyns was because of my greed."

"But I swear I never meant for their entire family to be destroyed. I tried to save Mrs. Carlyn Senior — to send her back so she could start over." Her voice broke. "But she hanged herself."

Silence.

"After that, the Carlyns tried to retaliate. The warlord feared they would ruin his reputation and ordered me to kill them secretly. I couldn’t do it. So I drove them away instead, hoping distance would save their lives." Her shoulders shook. "I never imagined they would carry this hatred for generations."

"Shut up, you old hag!" Wisteria snapped.

Penelope didn’t flinch. Tears kept falling, but her voice steadied.

"This all started because of me. I don’t regret the punishment I’ve received. The Sanders have already paid in blood." She lifted her head. "My life is yours whenever you want it."

Her gaze moved to me, and something in her expression softened entirely.

"I only ask one thing — spare these young ones. They are innocent."

Her trembling hand touched my arm gently.

"Chloe... Grandma has failed you. I’m not the good person you always believed me to be." Her voice broke apart completely. "I deserve everything that has happened to me. But you shouldn’t have to die because of my sins."

"I’m sorry... my poor child."