My Uterus 15

 

Chapter 7 

Chapter 7 

Everyone around them stared at Sophia in stunned silence. 

Sophia herself sensed something was terribly wrong. 

She turned to face Henry’s deathly pale complexion, shaking his shoulders: 

“What’s wrong, Henry? You look awful-are you feeling sick?” 

Sophia placed her hand on Henry’s forehead, leaning in to check his temperature. 

But Henry suddenly erupted with force, shoving Sophia out of his arms. 

The push was brutal-Sophia, caught completely off guard, crashed to the floor. 

‘Henry, what the hell are you doing?! I haven’t done anything to you-why are you taking your anger out on me?!” 

Years of being pampered had long since stripped Sophia of any ability to read situations. 

As she struggled to get up, clutching her back, Henry planted his foot firmly on her body. 

Before she could speak, his face turned ice-cold as he demanded. 

‘Aren’t you going to explain what you did to Isabella?” 

A flash of bewilderment crossed Sophia’s eyes: 

‘Explain what about Isabella? You’re the one who had someone run down her daughter. You’re the one who had her violated. You’re he one who made her take those pills to abort her baby.” 

Henry Foster, everything was your choice. Tell me-what exactly am I supposed to explain to you?!” 

You left halfway through our engagement ceremony in such a rush. I know you’re starting to care about that woman, but you don’t need to forget your old love for your new obsession so quickly! Have you forgotten all those sweet promises you whispered in bed?!” 

Henry Foster, I never imagined you could be such an ungrateful bastard… 

You vicious whore! You monster!” 

Henry cut off Sophia’s words. 

He grabbed a surgical pen from a nearby doctor’s coat pocket and drove it straight into Sophia’s eye. 

A piercing shriek tore through the air. 

A geyser of reeking blood erupted from Sophia’s eye socket, splattering across Henry’s face. 

Sophia clutched her eye, screaming at the top of her lungs: 

“Henry Foster, have you lost your mind?! Everything that happened to Isabella was your doing alone-what does any of it have to do 

with me?!” 

“AHHHH 

Chapter 7 

Henry had no intention of responding. 

He yanked out the pen and plunged it into Sophia’s other eye. 

For the next two hours, Sophia’s agonized screams echoed throughout the massive hospital. 

Medical facilities certainly offered a diverse array of instruments-long knives, short knives, needles thick as a forearm, even drugs that could kill without leaving a trace… 

The young woman who had once cuddled sweetly in Henry’s arms vanished forever that afternoon. 

Perhaps even in death, she never understood why. 

When Henry returned home in defeat, I was lounging on our sun-drenched beach, receiving the video footage of his torture of Sophia 

Within just three days, I received news about Henry Foster once again. 

The Foster family’s once thriving business empire had inexplicably collapsed overnight-their financial lifeline severed completely. 

That ten billion in liquid assets had vanished in the blink of an eye. 

When a dynasty crumbles, people reveal their true nature-not a single soul was willing to offer assistance. 

The fearless ninth son of the Foster family suddenly lost all his fighting spirit, allowing the Foster empire that had been built over a century to crumble in his hands. 

When the Foster family fell, their hospital chain was quickly sealed off by authorities. 

When the inspection team arrived, they discovered something horrifying-a partially decomposed corpse in the hospital lobby. 

This particular hospital had upgraded its surveillance system just last year. 

The footage was crystal clear-Henry Foster had killed her with his own hands. 

Thirty minutes later, they found Henry at home, having committed suicide by swallowing razor blades. 

As for why Henry Foster had murdered this young woman named Sophia Sterling, no one ever learned the truth. 

Apart from the murder weapons, the scene revealed nothing. 

Isabella, Ryan says it’s getting cold-he wants you to come back inside.” 

Quinn’s hoarse voice interrupted my thoughts. 

I smiled at him, wrapped myself in the blanket he’d brought, and followed him back. 

In the distance, a young man raised his wine glass and waved at me: 

“Today is a good day-we should celebrate.” 

The man was my childhood friend, Ryan Lancaster. Quinn was his younger brother. 

Ten years ago, during a business war, Henry Foster had used dirty tactics to drive the Lancaster family out of the country. 

Today marked the culmination of a carefully orchestrated revenge game planned by those whose lives had been destroyed. 

Chapter 7 

Fortunately, we had succeeded. 

“Cheers-to tomorrow.”