Chapter 476: Drastic Measures

The icy touch on Paula’s neck made her pupils contract sharply. The cup in her hand clattered to the floor.

“W-What are you doing?”

Pressing harder, Martha said, “Return the money to Ceci.”

“I gave all the money to Ralph! Where would I get more? Put down the knife, or I’ll make you regret it!” Paula’s voice trembled.

Martha remained unfazed. “How? What can you, who can’t lift a finger, possibly do?”

Paula felt a sharp pain on her neck. “Calm down. You want money, right? I’ll give it to you.”

Indeed, facing death, no one was noble. Martha knew Paula feared death, but her death wasn't her goal.

“Mom, why is the door closed? I need to talk to you.” Magnus’s voice came from outside.

Feigning anxiety, Martha said, “I’m going to kill you to avenge Cecil.”

Terrified, Paula grabbed the knife. Martha seized her hand, twisting the knife toward herself and plunging it into her own abdomen.

“Ah!” Paula screamed, seeing her hands covered in blood. She felt no pain; Martha had stabbed herself.

“You…!” Paula stammered, dropping the knife.

Martha collapsed with a thud. As her vision blurred, she murmured, “I can’t fight you, but I can trade my life… to ensure… your unrest… and imprisonment…”

She knew her frail body couldn’t harm Paula. She had come to use her last breath to send Paula to jail.

“You’re a maniac! A madwoman!”

Martha, blood trickling from her mouth, said, “I called the police before I arrived.”

Urgent knocking pounded on the door. “Mom, what’s happening? There are police outside! Mom, open the door!” Magnus panicked.

Why are the police here? Has Cecilia found evidence of Mom and me transferring assets?

Inside, Paula’s hands shook uncontrollably. “You lunatic!” Her eyes were bloodshot. After all her efforts, she didn’t want jail. Why would this nanny sacrifice herself?

Frantically, Paula wiped the blood from her hands. Then, with a loud bang, the door burst open. Seeing the officers, Paula realized her future was ruined—by a nanny.

Martha lay on the cold floor, her mind replaying the doctor's words from the night before: “Madam, the fluid in your lungs is critical. You may not have another two weeks.”

Martha had begged, “Doctor, please don’t tell my daughter. I’ll tell her.” The doctor agreed, prescribing strong painkillers.

Martha knew that at death’s door, there was no pain, only reluctance to leave, especially the ones she loved.