Chapter 423 Lunatic

We held each other tightly, Whitney trembling with emotion.

“Chloe, did she hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine,” I reassured her.

Whitney, unconvinced, let go of my hands and circled me, inspecting every inch as if to make sure I was unharmed. Only after confirming I was fine did she finally exhale in relief.

Taylor, still nursing his bleeding wrist, looked equally astonished. “She didn’t lay a hand on you?”

I glanced at the wound on his wrist, evidence of Whitney’s fierce resistance, though he seemed entirely indifferent to the pain.

“Not only did she not hurt me,” I said with quiet confidence, “but she’ll send me back herself. Do you believe that?”

Taylor’s brows furrowed, but after a moment, he muttered, “You’re still standing here unharmed, so yeah, I guess it’s not impossible.”

Whitney quickly interjected, her voice urgent. “Chloe, then you should leave right away!”

I wasn’t just planning to leave; I wanted Amber to personally send both Whitney and me out the door. This was the best chance I’d get. Still, Taylor’s possessiveness toward Whitney was a looming obstacle, and I knew better than to reveal my intentions in front of him.

I reached out, gently cupping Whitney’s face. “I just want to spend a little more time with you.”

“Chloe, you’re too naive,” she murmured, shaking her head.

Naive? Maybe. But I also knew Taylor must have used me as leverage to control her over the years. Whitney could have given up long ago, but she endured it all—for the Sanders family. If she could bear so much, then helping her was the least I could do.

“Don’t worry about me,” I said with a reassuring smile. “Just rest. Stop overthinking.”

Obediently, she nodded, though the worry in her eyes lingered. Both Whitney and Taylor knew Amber’s nature far better than I did. If she had intended to harm me, I wouldn’t still be breathing. The fact that she hadn’t made a move was proof enough—I was safe.

As night fell, the world grew eerily still. The sprawling mansion seemed to echo with the faint sound of my footsteps on the hardwood stairs.

Perhaps she thought sparing me was a gesture of mercy. She never expected I’d have the audacity to invade her space. Amber Carlyn—the untouchable matriarch, the one everyone feared—was unprepared for this lunatic barging in at midnight.

The soft click of the door unlocking alerted her. She sat up in bed, her voice sharp. “Who’s there?”

I took deliberate, measured steps toward her. “Amber, it’s me. Don’t you remember? I’m the one Silas stabbed—one blade straight through me. It hurt so much, and it was so cold…”

The snap of her bedside lamp shattered the darkness, its warm yellow light flooding the room. Her icy gaze met mine. “Chloe, have you lost your mind? What are you doing here, acting like some ghost in the middle of the night?”

I chuckled softly. “Amber, are you sleeping well? Because I’m not.”

Without waiting for an invitation, I pulled back her blanket and lay down beside her. Amber’s eyes widened in disbelief, her expression as if she were staring at an alien.

“You’re pushing your luck!” she hissed, her teeth clenched. “Do you think I won’t kill you?”

I turned to face her, smiling faintly. “Of course, I believe you would. But if I die, Carter won’t live much longer either. Would you be able to stomach that? Amber, I’ve figured out your weakness. You’ve already lost this game.”

“Amber, since you’ve shown no interest in Whitney, why not remove the chip and let her go? It wouldn’t cost you anything.”

She responded, “Have I ever told you that no one has ever dared to threaten me? You can cut yourself, throw a tantrum, or even kill yourself—I couldn’t care less. Just get out of my sight.”

Amber’s strategy was clear: agreeing to one demand would only invite more. She wouldn’t give me anything. But I was prepared for that. I pulled out a dagger, its blade glinting under the soft light. Positioning it over my wrist, I fixed her with a steady gaze.

“Amber, you underestimate what I’m willing to do for my family.”

I didn’t hesitate. The blade sliced down without mercy. This time, there was no hesitation or build-up. My movements were too fast, catching her completely off guard. Bright red blood spread across the bed like a sudden storm.

I looked at her, still smiling. “Sorry for messing up your bed. But don’t you think red looks better?”

“Chloe, are you out of your mind?” Amber fumed, her rage palpable as she nearly stomped in frustration.

Tilting my head slightly, I held up the blood-dripping knife and gave her a bright, cheerful smile. “Amber, all I want is for Whitney to leave safely. I know exactly what I’m doing. If you don’t believe I’ll kill myself… should I go for the throat next? Or straight to the heart—what do you think would be quicker?”

Her expression darkened as I added, “Oh, and Amber, make sure you and Carter take care of my body afterward. Bury us together.”

I chose to slash my wrist because I’d been through this before. It looks dramatic and bleeds a lot, but it’s rarely fatal if you control it.

Amber snatched the knife from my hand, her movements sharp and full of anger. Then, grabbing a towel, she pressed it firmly against the wound to stop the bleeding. All the while, she hissed through gritted teeth, “How could Carter fall in love with someone as twisted as you? Do you even think about him when you pull stunts like this? His life is tied to yours! Is this what his love means to you? To watch you destroy yourself like this?”

It was clear—Carter was the one she truly cared about.

I gave her a sweet smile. “Amber, have you made up your mind yet? Because if you haven’t, I can just bleed out here and now.”

“Do what you want!” she snapped, exasperated but cornered. Then, after a moment of silence, she relented, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Even as she spoke, she pressed the towel harder against my wrist, pulling out her phone to make a call. Not long after, a man in black entered the room, bringing someone with him.

Amber, sitting at the edge of the bed, lit a cigarette and gave a cold command. “Bandage her wound.”

“Amber, you’re so kind. Who knew you cared so much about me?”

“Shut up! Don’t say such disgusting things to me.”

“Disgusting? I thought it was sweet,” I replied with a grin.

Amber extinguished her cigarette with a sharp twist, glaring at me with eyes blazing with fury. She wanted to lash out but held herself back.

It felt amazing. I was starting to enjoy this—watching her squirm gave me a strange sense of satisfaction.

Once the doctor finished dressing my wound, the bloodstained sheets were replaced. Amber turned to me, her voice icy. “What are you looking at? Do you expect me to lose sleep over you tonight? I’ll handle everything in the morning.”

I had to stay on top of Whitney’s situation. I couldn’t afford any more surprises.

“Of course,” I said casually. “But I don’t mind waiting through the night. I’m just feeling a bit tired.”

“Then go sleep!”

“Your bed is so big and soft,” I mused aloud.

Her expression hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve never shared a bed with you before,” I said, flashing her a sly smile. “Amber, how about we sleep together tonight?”

“Don’t even think about it!”

“You’re so cold-hearted,” I toyed with the bandage on my wrist. “Such a small request, and you can’t even grant it. I feel so hurt. Maybe I should just end it here.”

“Chloe!”

She slammed her hand on the bedside table, her frustration boiling over. I half-expected her to grab the lamp and knock me out with it.

I remained unfazed. “What’s wrong, Amber? Are you reconsidering my offer?”

She flicked off the light, her tone resigned. “Fine. Let’s sleep.”

Amber lay down next to me. It felt surreal—sharing a bed with the mastermind behind my death. I hid my smile, my voice low and calm as I asked, “Why did you kill me in my past life?”