Chapter 91

Jonathan knew Cynthia controlled the wolves, but he stood before her as they snarled and approached. At that moment, Filip regained his senses and rose to protect Cynthia.

Lilian, witnessing the scene, was devastated. "Filip, how could you do this to me?"

The four wolves closed in, oddly heading toward Lilian. Terrified, she curled into a ball. She knew Cynthia had gone mad and pinned her hope on Filip. "Filip, save me! We've been together for three years. Please save me! I don't want to die! Filip, I'm pregnant with our baby. You've heard his heartbeat, seen him—he looks just like you. Filip, for the baby's sake, save me!"

Filip appeared calm, but he was bluffing. He didn't want to lose to Jonathan, yet he was conflicted. Lilian deserved to die, but not so brutally. Besides, she carried his child.

Finally, he turned, grabbed Cynthia's arm, and pleaded, "Cynthia, let Lilian go. She deserves to die, but not like this!" His eyes were red. "Cynthia, think! You're murdering someone! You'll go to jail!"

He saw no emotion on Cynthia's face. He turned to Jonathan. "Stop her. Do you really want to see her kill someone?"

Jonathan replied coldly, "I won't stop her, but I'll cover for her."

The wolves drew closer. Filip's grimace intensified. Everyone held their breath as the four wolves simultaneously lunged at Lilian.

Lilian's scream pierced the air, but the expected bloodshed didn't occur. Cynthia calmly blew her whistle twice. The wolves stopped, ran to her, nudged her ankle with their noses, and wagged their tails.

Cynthia bent down, stroked their heads, and smiled. "I'm just kidding. They're pet wolves. They won't hurt anyone."

Filip nearly collapsed. A smirk touched Jonathan's lips; he'd already realized the truth.

The wolves wore numbered collars, indicating captivity. Their glossy coats showed diligent care. Only captive-bred wolves tolerate close human contact. Well-bred pet wolves are often more docile than dogs. Wolves, however, are far smarter, understanding and obeying commands, even acting. Cynthia had simply orchestrated a feigned attack.

He wondered where she'd obtained such high-quality animals.

Lilian finally relaxed. Cynthia approached, knelt, and said, "Lilian, I'm tired of our fighting, stealing, and framing. I know everything you've done. Let's settle this."

Just as Lilian breathed a sigh of relief, panic flickered in her eyes.

Cynthia smiled. "Don't worry. I won't kill you. You're not worth jail time."

"Cynthia, what do you want?" Lilian asked.

"You ruined my life. You'll pay with what you cherish most," Cynthia replied, twisting a strand of hair. "Your position as Filip's wife? Filip himself? Orthe baby?" She looked at Lilian's belly.

Lilian, sensing danger, shielded her belly. "Cynthia, don't hurt my child!"

Cynthia smiled. "He's unlucky to have you as a mother. Lilian, I want to be a villain for once."

She stood, addressing Filip. "Filip, don't you want to make amends? I'll give you a chance."

Filip stood blankly, but Lilian raged. "Cynthia, you can't do this! You have no right to hurt my baby! You'll regret it!"

Lilian knew Cynthia was using Filip to inflict maximum pain.

Filip's brow furrowed. After a long pause, he said quietly, "Cynthia, I didn't want this baby."

Lilian recoiled. "No, you can't do this!"

Filip stepped closer, grasping Lilian. "Lilian, get an abortion and leave the country. This child shouldn't exist, and you don't deserve to be his mother. You've done wrong and must pay. We're the same."

Cynthia left Quadfield Mansion, returning to Greenfield Villa in silence. Jonathan asked nothing.

She took leave from the TV station and slept for three days, seemingly drained from her conflict with Lilian. Jonathan stayed by her side, caring for her. Cynthia had never slept so much—a result of medication.

After years, she finally knew the truth behind her deepest doubts and wounds. The truth was crueler than she'd imagined. The memory of her assault made her ill.

She awoke in Jonathan's room, his scent comforting. After three days, she felt revitalized. She went barefoot to the dining room, knowing Jonathan's routine.

He was in the kitchen, wearing a white shirt and a bear-shaped apron.