Stanley’s recounting was thorough, his tone fluctuating yet unbiased. He neither exaggerated nor omitted details, relaying the events completely.

After hearing everything, Stephan furrowed his brows. “Imogen, you’ve misunderstood. I kept things from you because I didn’t want you to worry. The real culprit behind Archie’s death isn’t the Fuller family. I’m close to uncovering who it is. Just wait a little longer.”

“Wait?” Imogen laughed angrily. “After everything, you’re still lying to me? For the sake of the Fuller family—for Felicia—you’re ready to abandon your own blood relatives?”

She sneered. “Fine! Then make a choice. Either I die before you, or you order the extermination of the Fuller family and kill Felicia!”

No one anticipated Imogen’s rage escalating to this level. She suddenly drew a knife and held it to her neck. Her forceful motion immediately drew a red line across her fair skin, a stark contrast against its paleness.

Stephan’s expression changed dramatically. “Imogen, put it down!”

The sudden escalation shocked Stanley, Andy, and all the Russell family members; they were frozen. The sight of a pregnant woman threatening suicide was horrifying, amplified by Imogen’s notoriously stubborn nature. Despite her gentle demeanor, the Russell family’s inherent streak of madness ran deep within her. Now, in her emotional frenzy, she seemed capable of harming herself.

“It’s either my life or hers. Choose!” Imogen pressed the knife against her neck, her cold smile unwavering.

This shocking scene left everyone reeling except Johanna, who wasn’t surprised. It had been her idea; she had discreetly given Imogen the knife. Before the helicopter landed, Johanna whispered, “Imogen, I dreamed of my brother last night. He told me to take good care of you and the child… It pains me that our enemy is before us, yet we can’t avenge him!”

Imogen, deeply in love with Archie and consumed by grief, had made revenge her obsession. Johanna’s words, laced with subtle provocation, pushed Imogen into this desperate plan, forcing Stephan’s hand with her life. The strategy proved extremely effective.

Driven mad by her emotions, Imogen resorted to this extreme action. Holding the knife to her neck, she began a countdown. “I’ll give you one minute to decide. Counting down now…”

Stephan took a deep breath. “Imogen, this isn’t you. Someone must be misleading you. Calm down and put the knife down!” His gaze briefly landed on Johanna; that single, cold, menacing glance made Johanna feel as though she was already dead. Terrified, she instinctively took a step back.

Imogen, however, remained deaf to reason. Clutching the knife, she continued counting. “Fifty-four, fifty-three…”

“Imogen, even if Dexter was responsible for Archie’s death, what does that have to do with Felicia?”

“A father’s debt should be repaid by his children. Isn’t that how it works?” Imogen tilted her chin upward, genuinely believing she was justified. Stephan’s opposition and defense of Felicia only fueled her anger.

“Stephan, can you honestly say you’re not forsaking revenge for Archie just to protect this girl? Do you think what you’re doing is fair to me, your sister? To Archie, who fought and died for you?”

Imogen’s next words were a dagger to Stephan’s heart. “Stephan, do you even remember how I lost my sight? Do you?” She pointed at her unfocused eyes, her face a mix of disappointment and fury. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks. One by one, the memories of the past came flooding back.