Chapter 286: Maggie is Ruthless

Timothy turned around, placing the dagger in Maggie's hand and pointing it at his own heart. Maggie stared in disbelief.

He smiled, his eyes clear as he gazed at her. He pressed her hand, urging the dagger closer to his chest. Tears welled in Maggie's eyes. She wondered if madness ran in their family; both Nathael and Timothy seemed to share similar traits.

Timothy towered over her, his shadow falling upon her. Despite his imposing size, he smiled weakly. "Go ahead, kill me. I assure you they'll release you once I'm gone," he said, his tone light yet eerily persuasive, drawing her towards the abyss.

A lump formed in Maggie's throat, and sweat beaded on her brow. Kill him? Eliminating him could alleviate Nathael's future troubles, she thought. But did she have the right to decide his fate without knowing the extent of his actions against Nathael?

"Have you ever taken a life?" she asked.

He chuckled, noticing her hesitation. He guided her hand, pressing the dagger deeper into his flesh. A dark red stain spread across his black shirt like a morbid bloom.

Maggie's hand trembled, but she couldn't bring herself to kill him. In that moment, she realized she had lost the battle. She couldn't be like Sierra and the others. It wasn't just her morals; perhaps, as Timothy suggested, it was the fact that she had never taken a life before.

Timothy smiled, amused. "If you were to kill me now, Nathael could find you a lawyer and argue self-defense," he said calmly.

They were locked in a stalemate. He continued to press the blade, while she remained frozen. She despised her powerlessness, but deep down, she knew she couldn't go through with it. She couldn't pierce his heart or slit his throat, especially not while he spoke so calmly, smiling.

Suddenly, Timothy leaned closer, whispering in her ear, "What if I showed you how?" The pressure intensified. The dagger pierced his flesh with a dull thud, echoing loudly in the silent woods—a faint but startlingly clear sound.

Maggie, unwilling to admit defeat, released her grip and punched him in the face. Caught off guard, he staggered. She quickly pulled out the dagger and slashed his face, inflicting a seven-centimeter gash. Blood streamed down, thick as ink.

Samuel flinched, and nearby mercenaries advanced, their guns pointed at Maggie. Sweat trickled down Maggie's forehead as she faced Timothy, ignoring the mercenaries. With a cold stare, she said, "I couldn't bring myself to kill you, but that doesn't mean I won't leave you with a trinket."

Timothy slowly raised his head, his eyes dark and mysterious.

Maggie continued, "I don't know why you hate Nathael so much, but since he cares enough to protect you, I won't disappoint him. We all have our struggles, but that doesn't justify your actions."

Timothy's expression was unreadable. Maggie's eyes now held a fierce intensity. She had asked Nathael about Timothy's resentment, but he had remained silent—shielding his brother, as he had in past lives.

Timothy laughed chillingly, a hint of madness in his eyes. "You know nothing. Don't act self-righteous on behalf of others!"

Maggie's lips tightened. "Whatever debt Nathael owes you, I'll repay."

Timothy found this amusing. His gaze grew colder. "Do you really think you can afford it?"

"Then tell me," Maggie challenged, refusing to back down.

His eyes were enigmatic as he scrutinized her with a sinister look. After a moment, he grasped her wrist. "What about falling in love with me?" he joked.

Maggie was so frustrated she almost laughed. With a cold chuckle, she retorted, "That depends on whether you can actually win me over. Why would I give up Nathael? Who would do anything for me? Timothy, what have you ever done to deserve that?"

Timothy released her wrist, his hostility softening slightly. "You're heartless towards me," he muttered.

Maggie looked away. When his expression turned cold, he bore a striking resemblance to Nathael. Her throat felt dry, her hair stuck to her face. The damp sweat chilled her to the bone. She felt exhausted.

She walked to a nearby rock, gazing at the sun. She wondered how Nathael was doing.

Meanwhile, Samuel tended to Timothy's wound. Despite Timothy's frail health, Samuel frowned, glancing at Maggie, who still held Timothy's dagger—a slender, sharp blade, Ecroabar style, with a sapphire embedded in it.

As she eyed the sapphire, Maggie turned to Timothy and demanded, "Give me back my brooch!"

Her boldness surprised everyone. Timothy looked at her, showing no intention of returning it. With a serene expression, Maggie said in a raspy voice, "Give it back! I'll design another one for you later."

Finally, Timothy relented, signaling to Toby, who handed him the brooch. He examined it, his fingers tracing the gemstone, his eyes contemplative.

(The final sentence "Send Gifts" appears to be unrelated and should be removed.)