His Real Wedded Bride

Chapter 1378 Kill Her

Leila only wished that someone would give her just the tiniest hope at this point in her life. However,

she had no one. No one reached out to her.

She didn't bother crying about it and moping around because now she'd found a new goal. She found

something that would motivate her which was hatred. 'There's no way back. I can't turn back time, so I

might as well just take Sheryl down with me, ' Leila thought to herself.

Her eyes were full of deep-seated hatred. Leila was going to do no matter what it took. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

Leila stared at Sheryl's perfect figures for a long time. Finally, she lifted her hand to touch Sheryl's cold

face in the dimmed lights. She stroked her figures lightly as if enjoying a perfect masterpiece.

'Wow, such a beauty! What will happen if something goes wrong with her face? Will Charlie still love

her?' Leila began to fantasize. She even had time to test her ideas.

Sheryl should've awakened by Leila barging into her bedroom and caressing her face like a pervert—

anyone would've gotten awaken by it.

But what was strange was that Sheryl was still sunk in sleep like she was already resigned to this world

of darkness that she was now in.

Leila didn't realize how strange it was because she was too caught up in her own emotions. She just

thought the reason why Sheryl didn't wake up was that she was in the middle of a deep sleep and that

her touch was gentle enough to not disturb her.

Leila's hand looked thin and white in the moonlight. She gradually moved her hand to Sheryl's delicate

neck.

Looking at Sheryl's beautiful and vulnerable neck, Leila associated her with a maiden of sixteen.

Looking like a budding flower, Sheryl was a woman of great beauty.

Leila grabbed her neck lightly and could feel Sheryl's pulse.

She looked insane under the moonlight while the darkness hid her evil intentions.

With jealousy boiling inside her, Leila started tighten her grasp around Sheryl's throat.

Leila loosened her grip when she realized the odd bluish color of Sheryl's neck. 'Why hasn't she

awakened?' She realized that there was something wrong.

'What have I done to her?' At this moment, Leila was at a loss. She was scared by what she had done.

She couldn't believe that she almost killed Sheryl.

Instead of ensuring that Sheryl was still alive, Leila dashed out of the room like she was trying to

escape from it.

She stumbled on her way out. When she returned to her room, she slid down with her back against the

wall, gasping and afraid.

She recalled what she had done and she realized that Sheryl looked like she was in comatose.

She was afraid that she'd killed Sheryl.

Leila despised Sheryl but that didn't mean that she wanted to kill her.

She didn't even want to think about what Charles would do if Sheryl really died. 'He'll get mad at me

and get his revenge. He'll make my life a living hell. I can't let that happen. I'm not a murderer!' Leila

panicked to herself.

The only thing she could do now was pray that Sheryl was safe and sound.

'She can't be that weak, ' Leila assured herself. 'My grip wasn't that strong. She can't just die like that. I

should go to sleep now. At least in my dream, I can do whatever I want to her.'

Leila rubbed her chest to make herself calm down and talked herself out of panicking. After which, she

went to bed.

Leila woke up early the next morning.

When she opened her eyes, last night's events immediately flashed in her mind. She recalled how

silent Sheryl was.

The blood drained out of Leila's face. After looking back to everything that had happened the previous

night, Leila realized something—Sheryl never responded to her.

The more she tried to remember what she'd done to Sheryl, the more scared she became. She made

her way to the living room to distract herself.

It was still early in the morning, so there was nobody in the living room except her. She sat on the sofa,

deep in thought. She couldn't get her mind off it.

She wanted to go upstairs to make sure that if Sheryl was still alive, but she was afraid to face the truth

if she wasn't.

The air in the early morning was a little cold and moist. Leila had sat on the sofa for half an hour, and

her hands and feet had become as cold as water. As the sun gradually came up, the fog had

disappeared as if it was never there. It was replaced by the sunlight.

Leila still felt cold despite the sunrise. She felt like she was in hell. She wrapped her arms around

herself, terrified.

After a while, Melissa got up and went downstairs. She looked relaxed. It seemed that Shirley's

condition didn't bother her at all. She was selfish like that. She never bothered to worry about anyone

as long as she was okay.

If it was Charles who had been kidnapped, she wouldn't get worried as long as she could still keep her

lavish lifestyle. Maybe she'd act sad and worried for a while but that was it.

The only one Melissa cared about was herself, and what mattered most to her was her luxurious life.

She'd gotten a bit worried about Shirley but had sooner dismissed the feeling when she realized she

could just blame it all on Leila.