Chapter 194: Shattered Glass, Shattered Truths

Blood trickled down from Luke’s forehead. He stared at me in disbelief, his bloodshot eyes brimming with a mixture of shock and pain as I clutched the vase in my hands. "You actually…" Before he could finish, his body collapsed with a heavy thud.

This was the first time I had ever done something like this, and panic overwhelmed me. I rushed over to Carter, frantic. “Are you okay?”

Carter glanced at Luke lying on the floor, then back at me. “I’m fine.” He called out to Damian, his tone calm and composed, “Take him to the hospital.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Damian, with his tall and sturdy frame, effortlessly carried Luke away. Seeing the blood pooling from Luke’s wound made me freeze in panic. Sensing this, Carter pulled me into his arms. “Don’t worry. He’s not dead. Just injured.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling lightly in his embrace. After witnessing the deaths of myself and Esmee, my fear of such incidents had grown unbearable. I had wished for Luke to get what he deserved, but smashing his head with a vase wasn’t the kind of retribution I had in mind.

Once I calmed down, Carter finally asked, “Why did you hit him with the vase just now?”

“I didn’t think it through,” I admitted, my heart still racing. “He’s a grown man trying to harm someone who can’t even defend himself. Anyone would stop such a vile act.”

If I had actually killed Luke, I’d have blood on my hands and lose any chance of seeking justice in the future. I really need to be less impulsive next time. But at that moment, it was pure instinct. When I realized what I’d done, Luke was already on the ground. Carter tightened his hold on me. “No matter the reason, seeing you act like that… I’m genuinely happy.”

What is he so happy about? Is it because I didn’t kill Luke?

Still shaken, I returned to my room while Carter checked on Luke’s condition. Not long after, Adam stormed in, livid. “Carter, the Boltons isn’t just yours to rule! My son’s already suffering from a serious illness and undergoing treatment. Yet, you all dared to hurt him like this!”

“Adam, don’t get upset.” I stepped forward quickly. “It was me. I hit him. There was a reason for it.”

Adam’s face remained stony. “I don’t care what your reasons were. Save your excuses for Jeffrey!”

Though I had my reasons, trouble seemed to follow me ever since I married into the Boltons. Jeffrey’s affection for me was evident, but it was mostly because I resembled Chloe. At the end of the day, Luke was his biological grandson. After repeated incidents like this, there was no way he’d just let it go.

When I came downstairs, I was met with his furious glare. Sheila was beside him, trying to calm him down.

“Dad, don’t let this upset you. Here, have some tea to relax,” she urged, handing him a cup.

Jeffrey swatted it away, the teacup shattering at my feet. Tea leaves scattered everywhere, and some even splashed onto my slippers. Thankfully, it was winter. If it were summer, the hot water might have burned my legs.

Jeffrey was seething, and I racked my brain for an explanation. Carter, however, took my hand and said, “Dad, it’s not worth ruining your health over something so trivial.”

“Trivial?”

“Luke’s head is bleeding because of her!” Jeffrey roared, his long-simmering frustration with me finally boiling over. “Zoey, I thought you were a smart, obedient girl. I had high hopes for you. But ever since you joined this family, you’ve done nothing but stir up trouble. I don’t know what Luke did to make you hate him so much, but why go this far?”

Once or twice could be chalked up to coincidence, but repeated incidents naturally raised suspicions. I swear, I hate him, but this time, it was an accident. Just as I was about to… before making accusations, Carter interjected, “Even the police investigate the cause and gather evidence before making accusations. Are you just going to convict her without asking why?”

I took the opportunity to speak up. “There was a dispute between Luke and Carter. Luke was about to hit him. With Damian nowhere in sight, I panicked and grabbed the nearest vase to stop him.”

“The nearest vase? If there’d been a knife on the table, would you have stabbed him instead?”

Sheila seized on my slip, her eyes gleaming. She’d been waiting for a chance to reclaim her position as Mrs. Boltons. She fanned the flames, clearly banking on Jeffrey’s desire to defend Carter. But she underestimated my resolve. I met her gaze head-on. “So what are you saying? I should’ve just stood by and watched?”

“Even if Carter weren’t my husband, even if he were just a complete stranger, I would never stand by and let Luke harm a defenseless, disabled person! I’m just a woman—he could easily push me to the ground with one hand. In such a situation, how else could I stop him if I didn’t act this way?”

Tears welled up as I turned to Jeffrey. “Dad, I know I was reckless, but I was desperate! If you want to punish someone, punish me. This has nothing to do with Carter.”

I paused, my voice trembling. “Don’t forget, Luke is your grandson, but Carter is your son. Sure, he’s higher in rank, but he’s not much older than Luke. And given his condition, Luke bullying him is just cruel. If I hadn’t been there, would you have been okay with Luke beating him up while he couldn’t even fight back?”

My tears painted us as the victims, and Jeffrey’s gaze shifted to Carter. I’d long noticed his bias toward Luke—it was only natural. Carter’s maturity and self-reliance often made people overlook his youth and needs. Still, the fact remained: Carter was young and disabled.

Jeffrey finally relented. “How are you? Did you get hurt?”

“Haven’t had the chance,” Carter replied icily. “If Zoey hadn’t stopped him, I’d probably be the one in the hospital now.”

His sharp gaze landed on Adam and Sheila, making them shift uncomfortably. Sheila, unwilling to give up, asked, “Luke’s been well-behaved lately. If he lashed out, you must’ve done something. What was it?”

“If you think it’s my fault, why don’t we wait for Luke to return and ask him directly?” Carter suggested, his tone indifferent.

I was curious myself. I hadn’t caught what sparked their argument.

Luke returned soon after, a bandage on his forehead. As he stepped inside, his coat was damp from melted snow, his eyes immediately locking onto me. His gaze was intense, filled with a confusing mix of relief, joy, and pain. Could he have figured out who I really am? That’s impossible. No one would believe something as absurd as a soul inhabiting another body.

“Perfect timing, Luke,” Sheila said. “Tell us what happened. What did Carter do to push you into such a rage?”

Luke ignored her, his eyes fixed on me as he slowly walked closer. Under his piercing gaze, my heart raced. I had a terrible feeling he was about to reveal something shocking. He stared into my eyes, his voice trembling. “Because Uncle Carter took something that was mine, something that meant everything to me!”

My heart pounded. Did he really figure it out?