I Was His Wife, Then His Widow, Then No One's But My Own novel Chapter 137

Caught completely off guard, Lance was knocked to the ground, his head smacking against the leg of a chair with a sickening thud.

Sprawled on the cold tiles, a line of blood tricked from the corner of his mouth. He froze for a second, then actually started to laugh.

He wiped the blood away with his thumb, spat on the floor, and propped himself up on one elbow to look up at Finnegan. He sneered, "What, did I hit a nerve?"

Finnegan's chest heaved, his fists still clenched tightly at his sides.

Lance picked himself up, dusting off his clothes. He looked around at the horrified faces and burst into loud, unhinged laughter, acting as if he had nothing left to lose.

"Fred, why are you acting so high and mighty after all these years? If it wasn't for you, Finnegan wouldn't have died! And look at Seraphina—you've been stringing her along for years without marrying her. Who knows what you're really thinking? Are you actually obsessed with Nora?"

The words dropped like a bomb in the middle of the dining room. Everyone's faces drained of color.

Seraphina's expression turned glacial. She took a sharp step toward Lance, her voice cracking as she screamed, "Lance, shut your mouth!"

Lance laughed like a maniac, the sound echoing off the walls. He looked directly at Alastair, who was sitting at the head of the table, shaking with rage. Lance threw his hands up. "The family isn't giving me a single share anyway, so don't blame me for turning on you. I've said what I said. Do you all really think no one else can see the sick little secrets you're hiding?"

Alastair didn't give him another second to speak. He marched over, raised his cane, and brought it down viciously on Lance's back.

Lance stumbled forward, the psychotic grin finally wiping off his face.

This was all because she was late! This was all her fault!

Nora, that toxic bitch!

Standing at the back of the room, Nora watched the scene with absolute detachment. Her expression hadn't shifted once; it was as if she were watching a play that had absolutely nothing to do with her.

She was admittedly surprised that Finnegan had spoken up for her, but after thinking it over, she knew the truth. Lance's insults had dragged the deceased 'Finnegan' into the mud. He couldn't let his own name be tarnished posthumously. He wasn't doing it to protect her.

Adelaide shot her a glare so hateful it could have killed. Nora didn't need to guess what the woman was cursing her with internally, but none of it mattered anymore.