Chapter 450

Hannah struggled to rise, her eyes wide with fear, staring out the window. The living room lights flickered erratically, emitting a high-pitched buzz, as if something were about to break through the darkness and tear her apart. The lights pulsed and dimmed, creating the eerie impression that something lurked just beyond the threshold, waiting to pounce.

“Henry, Caspian, Atlas…” Hannah muttered their names under her breath, frantically dialing their numbers. But no one answered.

Despair washed over her as she scanned her surroundings. This was her home, yet it felt like a tomb. The walls seemed to close in, the air thick with an oppressive chill that made her skin crawl.

Clutching her phone tightly, her mind raced with images of Odalys. Without thinking, she dialed her number. The call was answered almost instantly, and a wave of relief washed over her.

“Odalys, hurry back! Mom’s about to die!” she cried.

Then, her voice dripping with arrogance, she shouted, “Hello? Can you hear me? You better come back, or your mother’s going to die!” To Hannah, motherhood was her power, and she couldn't fathom that Odalys would let her die.

But on the other end of the line, there was silence. Hannah was about to yell again when a voice interrupted—low, smooth, and utterly chilling.

“Then go ahead and die.”

Hannah froze. She'd expected Odalys's usual false sympathy, a promise of rescue. Instead, she heard a blunt dismissal. Her blood ran cold.

“Who are you? Who are you?!” Hannah demanded, her voice cracking with panic.

There was no response. The phone clicked, and the call ended.

Livid, Hannah trembled with rage. She immediately redialed Odalys’s number, but the call didn't go through; she was blocked.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. She couldn't process what was happening. The fantasy she'd built—Odalys as her devoted daughter, always by her side—shattered in an instant.

She remembered the old days, when Odalys would fawn over her, noticing when she wasn't feeling well and bringing her gifts, like the necklace Odalys had since taken back. She recalled Oliver's desire for it. Back then, she hadn't thought much of it, but now, after everything, after realizing Odalys's true power, Hannah felt a pang of regret, especially with everything falling apart.

“How dare you let a man answer my call? How dare you tell me to die? How dare you hang up on me? How dare you steal my necklace back, Odalys! You’ve gotten too cocky!” Hannah screamed, furious.

Just as she finished, a cold chill swept through her, a premonition so strong it made her spine tingle. She clutched her phone, desperately scrolling through her contacts. Finally, she dialed Sienna’s number. The call connected, and she blurted out, “Sienna, are you and my daughter Odalys close lately? If you still want Odalys to help me, you’d better send someone to the Bennett family home to get me out of here now!”

Her desperation had reached its peak; old grudges no longer mattered. Years ago, she'd used their similar social standing to push Sienna out of wealthy women's circles. And Sienna's son, Stellan, was far more capable than her own sons. The Drake family had always thrived, while the Bennett family had fallen behind. Because of this, they'd never gotten along, but now, Sienna was all she had left.

Chapter 430 (Note: This should likely be a continuation of Chapter 450, not a new chapter)

“You don’t deserve it,” Sienna’s cold voice responded, and before Hannah could reply, the line went dead.

Hannah stared at her phone in disbelief, her mind racing. A strange sense of dread crept up her back. It felt as though an invisible hand were reaching for her. She spun around, only to see the window wide open, the wind howling outside.

Suddenly, a gust of wind slammed into the room, sending the sofa she was sitting on flying toward the door. The force of the wind propelled her and the sofa out of the room with a deafening crash. The impact sent Hannah tumbling to the ground, the heavy sofa pinning her down, leaving her unable to move. She struggled, but the weight made it hard to breathe.

Gasping for air, Hannah thought, How had everything gone so wrong? Had her good fortune been the result of the necklace? Was it all a fluke?

“Odalys, you bitch! Give me back my necklace!” Hannah cried out in agony, her voice breaking.

She continued to struggle when a shadow appeared in the doorway. Hannah looked up, expecting one of her sons, but instead, she saw an old man, hunched over, his eyes fixed on her with a sinister gaze.

She blinked in confusion. The man looked familiar—Brandon, the elderly man from the mountain village. His son had been ill, and Odalys had saved him.

“Is it you? You’re the heir to the century-old clothing store?” Hannah’s voice shook with a strange mix of relief and hope. She had no idea why he was there, but his presence suggested salvation. “I’m Odalys’s mother. My daughter saved your son. You’ve come to thank her, haven’t you? Please, help me up,” she begged.

But the old man remained unmoving, his cold gaze never leaving her.

“My son is dead. He died a few nights ago, right in front of your house,” he said in a deep, chilling voice.

Hannah froze. “Dead? He died in front of my house? That’s impossible! No one has died here!” she stammered.

The old man stepped forward, his bent form moving disturbingly slowly. His wrinkled face looked even older, aged by the past few days. Standing over her, he fixed her with an intense gaze.

“It was your family, the Bennett family, that killed my son. Sophia, during the variety show, seduced Rafael from the village. Do you know what happened to him?” He paused. “A few days ago, he was hit by a car outside Film Capital. His body was crushed. Do you know who did it? It was your daughter, Odalys.”

Hannah’s blood ran cold.

The old man spoke again, his voice heavy with malice. “My son died right in front of your Bennett family house. And it was her doing.” Hannah’s eyes widened in horror. Everything was unraveling. If Odalys was behind this, she’d made a grave mistake revealing her identity. The old man was connected, and now she was a target.

“What are you doing here?” Hannah demanded, fear creeping into her voice. “If she killed someone, you should be calling the police, not coming here to threaten me!”

The old man stepped closer, his rank odor of neglect and urine filling the air. Hannah recoiled, nearly gagging.

“You and your family are gone now. The Bennett Villa is a place of misfortune. I’m here to join your family,” he said, surveying the dark, oppressive atmosphere with unsettling satisfaction. “This house, filled with so much negative energy, is the perfect place for me. My son died here, and his death only made the wickedness grow. It’s just the right place for me.”

Hannah could barely comprehend his words. His lack of grief chilled her to the bone. Who was this man? Why was he so twisted? Was he insane? She held her breath, her hand shaking as she reached for her phone, her only hope now to call the police.