Chapter 53
She had always treated Ingrid so well.
Even now, she couldn’t believe Ingrid would betray her.
“If you want to forgive her, I won’t stand in your way.” Blanche caught the hesitation flicker across Ingrid’s face and added, “After all, when I dropped by the estate that day, you two seemed to be getting along just
fine.”
“Jeannette makes a lovely cup of tea, doesn’t she?”
The moment those words left Blanche’s lips, all four people involved turned pale.
It was as if Ingrid had been struck across the back with a whip; a chill swept through her.
Blanche must have been outside the house that day. She must have
overheard their conversation.
Ingrid frantically replayed every word she’d said that day, searching for anything incriminating. Other than mentioning Jeannette had been with Eddy for five years, she found nothing else that could have given them away. She let out a shaky breath. “Laney, take her to the river and feed her to the fish.”
As soon as Ingrid spoke, Jeannette erupted into hysterics, screaming at Eddy, “No! Don’t do this to me! I can’t swim! I’ll die!”
Even now, Jeannette refused to confess their affair in front of Eddy.
Blanche looked at Eddy.
His face was unreadable, exactly as it had been when the socialites attacked Jeannette. But his eyes were different now. He looked at Jeannette with pity-a tenderness Blanche had never once seen directed at her.
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He pitied Jeannette.
But that look vanished in a heartbeat.
“Take her to the river,” Eddy said, enunciating each word with icy finality. He then turned to Blanche, his gaze suddenly soft, almost loving. “No one gets to break your heart, Blanche.”
For a moment, Blanche was stunned.
She slipped her hand from Eddy’s grasp. If she hadn’t known the truth, she might have been fooled by him again.
“No, please… don’t…”
The bodyguards moved quickly, binding Jeannette’s wrists and dragging her toward the riverbank.
Blanche watched in silence, uncertain. She couldn’t believe Eddy would really toss Jeannette into the river just for her sake.
Jeannette had given him a daughter. They’d been together for five years.
Could he truly feel nothing for her?
The bodyguards lifted Jeannette. A strip of cloth gagged her, muffling her pleas.
Eddy showed no reaction. He even shrugged off his suit jacket and
draped it gently over Blanche’s shoulders, his tone as caring as ever. “It’s windy, darling. Let’s wait in the car.”
Blanche’s eyes dimmed. She let him guide her away, waiting, hoping Eddy would finally put a stop to this.
But he never spoke.
Tears streamed down Jeannette’s face, her eyes filled with nothing but despair.
The bodyguards carried her to the edge of the river, lifting her over the
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water.
Suddenly, memories flashed through Blanche’s mind.
Her mother’s slow decline hadn’t been just because Pollock had cheated. Pollock and Rhoda hadn’t just had Jeannette together-they also had an older son, even older than Blanche.
Her mother’s marriage to Pollock had been a scheme from the very beginning, orchestrated by Pollock and Rhoda.
Her mother had died of heartbreak, driven to despair by Pollock and
Rhoda.
If anyone deserved to pay for that, it was Jeannette. That, at least, felt justified.
A thousand voices in Blanche’s mind urged her to just stand there and
watch Jeannette die.
But Jeannette wasn’t the one who deserved to die. That had always been Pollock and Rhoda.
Jeannette had been the other woman, seducing Blanche’s husband.
But infidelity never happens in a vacuum-no one is blameless.
Jeannette was guilty, but death was too harsh a punishment.
Blanche shoved Eddy aside and ran toward the river, shouting, “Let her
go!”
The bodyguards hesitated for a split second-but in the next, they threw
Jeannette into the water.
With a splash, the river swallowed Jeannette whole.
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