The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes
Chapter 144- destroy

Chapter 144: Chapter 144- destroy

The air was so still, so silent, that Janet’s voice echoed in Charles’s ears with devastating clarity.

Her words, soft yet sharp, cut deeper than any scream ever could.

"You don’t even know what you’re saying," Charles growled, his voice low and trembling with suppressed rage. A storm had started in his chest, wild and violent. He’d thought—hoped—he’d misheard her. But no. This was the answer he got.

"Why do you always have to force me?" Janet’s eyes glittered with something unreadable. "I never loved you. I used you, Charles. I only stayed with you to get back at the Louis family. At Elvira. She liked you—so I had to take you away from her."

Charles staggered a step back.

This woman—this selfish, arrogant woman—was a stranger to him.

From the day he met her, to the moment he held her in his arms, he had never once wanted to use her. Even when August and Manfred had ulterior motives, he had shielded her. Protected her.

Was that all just part of her sick little plan?

"Listen closely, Charles." Janet’s voice turned sharp, edged with madness. "I stayed with you because I wanted to see Elvira fall. Now she’s paid the price. And us? We’re done. I can’t take this anymore—I need to get away from you!"

She was yelling now. Her voice rose hysterically, echoing through the sterile air of the hospital corridor, slicing through him like glass. Charles stood frozen, his face darkening by the second.

And yet, behind her eyes, she was bleeding. Every word she hurled at him stabbed at her heart too.

He was a man of pride. A man who could accept anything but betrayal.

And she knew she had just shattered the last of him.

Just one lie. Just one sentence—and she’d condemned him to a pit he might never crawl out of.

He wanted to believe this wasn’t who she really was.

But now... now he had a reason to forgive her.

Because it wasn’t him using her—

It was he who’d fallen into her trap.

By all logic, he should hate her.

Hate her cruelty.

Hate her lies.

Hate the way she ripped his heart out and spat on it.

But the tragedy was—

He couldn’t even find the strength to hate her.

He’d barely had enough time to love her.

And now even that was slipping away.

She’d stolen his heart. Carried his child.

And even if he was just another pawn in her vengeance game, he would accept it.

Because loving her... meant surrendering everything.

Even his pride.

In this moment, Charles no longer recognized the man he’d become.

"Now do you see me clearly?" Janet’s voice was ice. "I’m not the kind of woman you should love. I’m not worth it. I’ll get rid of the child, and we’ll divorce."

She stood there, staring at his motionless figure—stone still, like a statue cracked down the middle.

Inside, she was screaming.

I’m sorry, Charles. I’m so, so sorry...

But she couldn’t let him know.

She couldn’t let him stay.

Turning swiftly, she ran.

She didn’t look back, couldn’t. She tore down the hallway, past startled nurses, desperate to escape this place.

But she didn’t make it far.

Before she could reach the exit, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back—hard.

Her breath caught.

Then came his voice—low, cold, lethal.

"You should know by now," Charles whispered into her ear, his breath like winter wind, "what happens when you try to enrage me. Even if you’re my woman... you don’t get to run."

Charles carried her to the car in silence. The strength in his arms was undeniable, but his grip was never rough—never enough to hurt her. When the hospital finally disappeared behind them, Janet finally exhaled.

As long as he didn’t find out about her condition, she still had a chance to hold everything together.

He didn’t say a word the entire drive.

Not even when they arrived back at the villa.

Not even when he lifted her into his arms again and brought her straight to their bedroom.

But Janet could feel it.

His hands—slightly trembling.

His heart—beating wildly beneath his calm facade.

He had clung to the hope that the child she carried was a miracle.

And she had crushed that hope with every word she’d forced out of her mouth.

"You’re not leaving this house," Charles finally said, his voice dark, regal, final. "Not without my permission."

"You’re locking me up now?" Janet snapped, her eyes sparking. "You’re insane, Charles. You’re disgusting!"

Of course she had expected this. That’s why she’d tried to convince him to go to work—so she could find a chance to disappear before everything spiraled out of control.

"If you give birth to this child, I’ll forgive everything you said," he whispered, leaning in, arms on either side of her, caging her in. His voice was low, almost pleading. And though his body boxed her in, she could tell—he was holding back everything just to keep from hurting her.

Because deep down, all he wanted...

Was a reason to keep her.

And now, this child was the best reason he had.

"I won’t! You think locking me up will work? I have ways, Charles. If I want to lose this baby, I will! Don’t push me!" Janet shoved against his chest, eyes wide with panic. Her words stung—but her heart bled as she said them.

Forgive me, baby... I don’t mean any of this. But right now, we have to get away from your father.

"I can be just as ruthless, Janet," Charles growled, his palm resting protectively over her abdomen. "Don’t test me. I want this child."

He finally understood why, whenever he held her lately, he felt that unexplainable warmth—that subtle pull in his chest.

It was the life growing inside her. His child.

"No... don’t do this..." Janet’s defenses crumbled, her body trembling beneath his touch. It didn’t matter how coldly she spoke, how fiercely she pushed—he refused to let her go. Even though it hurt, even though she could see he was breaking too.

How was she supposed to keep hurting a man who clearly loved her this much?

"Even if you used me," he murmured, voice cracking slightly, "then let this child be my compensation. Just give birth to her, Janet. Please."

She couldn’t stop the tears from gathering on her lashes.

And he couldn’t stop himself from kissing them.

Her eyes—so transparent, so expressive—they never lied.

But now all he saw in them was blame, confusion, and pain.

Does staying with me really hurt her that much?

But letting her go?

That would destroy him.

So if pain was all they had left to share—then so be it.

Let them suffer together.

Charles left without another word.

But the house didn’t stay quiet for long.

A team of staff arrived within the hour. Every piece of wooden furniture with sharp edges was removed.

The carpets were replaced with thicker, softer ones—safe enough for her to lie on, fall on, even crawl across without harm. The bathroom, the stairs—every inch of the villa was transformed into a haven of padded red.

More importantly, the entire second floor and above was sealed off.

All the other rooms were locked.

Her once cozy, beautifully decorated home... now felt like a prison.

A padded, gilded, lonely prison.

Janet sat on the carpet, letting her fingers brush the fibers.

She didn’t feel cold.

But her heart... was freezing.

Even without asking, she knew.

He was scared.

Terrified that she would hurt the child.

So terrified that he had stripped the house bare, desperate to remove any tool she could use against herself—or the life inside her.

But how could he know?

She loved this child.

Loved her so much she would give her life to protect her.

Even if it meant lying to the man she once dared to love.

Even if it meant tearing them both apart.