Mistakenly Love You, To The Bones

In the hospital.

The cold device only had a faint vibration sound. Amelia Wytte had a long nightmare, in which a pair of cold hands tightly grabbed her throat and forced her to compromise.

All of a sudden, she felt something really cold and rough around her neck, which made her open her eyes all of a sudden.

"Waah..." the big palm suddenly tightened, which made her gasp for breath.

"What qualifications do you have to live?" The man gnashed his teeth in a low and hoarse voice, like the demon who was in the hell to decide life and death.

As she breathed hard, his handsome and cold eyes gradually appeared in her memory of Amelia Wytte.

"Nicola Clinton , why... Why did you do this to me?" The breath of Amelia Wytte was struggling weakly, and her eyes were red. She was in great pain.

The anger and hatred in his eyes made her have no doubt that she might die at his hands in the next second.

Just when she was about to lose her last strength to struggle, hid big hand suddenly loosened. Amelia Wytte was like a broken doll, thrown back to the pillow by Nicola Clinton mercilessly.

"That's right. You have no right to die. You should live a life worse than death. You should die with my brother all your life." He said word by word coldly.

Amelia Wytte breathed hard and looked into his cold eyes, murmuring, "what did you say? What happened to Bill ?"

Nicola Clinton looked at her coldly, as if he wanted to kill her.

"Dead." He gritted his teeth and said, "You are satisfied."

As he approached step by step, the transfusion bottle in Amelia Wytte was pulled down by him and smashed to the bedside. The glass bottle was broken into pieces.

Several pieces of glass debris bounced to her snow-white face, leaving shocking thin blood marks, but his eyes were burning with a cold flame.

Her body trembled, and a bigger crack appeared in her heart. She swallowed her tears and shook her head. "I don't know what happened. It's not me. It's really not me."

"Do you think I'm my brother?" He shouted coldly, and his eyebrows were full of disgust and hatred for her. "You cry and he felt heartache for you, and then he lost his life."

"You were drunk driving and had a car accident. You're lucky to survive."

"Damn you! Why is he..." Nicola Clinton 's eyes were full of scarlet.

Amelia Wytte held her head tightly with her hands, but he was like a executioner, cutting her heart word by word.

How could she expect him to be so gentle and trust her.

The pair of handsome eyes and brows had left a deep mark on her heart, and now she was devoured by pain.

He tried every means to push her to his brother, Bill Clinton , and even used her family to force her to marry him.

She didn't know that his brother was dead, but she became the most hateful murderer in his eyes.

"Are you still pretending?" He looked coldly at Amelia Wytte, who was on the verge of collapse. He grabbed her delicate chin and pressed her with his slender fingers mercilessly on the blood stain on her face. "It's disgusting."

He forced her to look up at him, as if in this way, she could not escape the hatred that could devour her and destroy her.

She was like a badly trampled puppet, only a pair of long wet eyelashes gently flapping.

"Yes, disgusting." Her soul seemed to be gradually emptied, leaving only a cold body without any temperature. "In your eyes, I am a bitch who seduces you two brothers. No matter what I do, you just hate me?"

"As I said, I didn't see Bill Clinton last night, let alone know what happened. Why don't you believe me?"

The tone of Amelia Wytte was horribly cold, and only a pair of desperate eyes were staring at and questioning him.

"You're really a natural born actress. You still act at this time." With a heartless chuckle, Nicola Clinton rudely wiped the blood on her lips. His pale lips were stained with blood, which made his face even paler.

She pursed her lips stubbornly, feeling that his eyes were so strange and terrible.

"Don't think you can escape in this way." His long sharp eyebrows frowned fiercely, and his words made Amelia Wytte feel cold.

"You are his woman. If you die, you're also his ghost."

Amelia Wytte's breath froze. This man was so cold and cruel perhaps because he had no heart under his cold appearance.

His brother was dead, and the murderer was not her at all. Did he want her to die with him for the rest of her life?

"Are you crazy?" Amelia Wytte's body moved back and she wiped the sweetness from the corner of her mouth, but her teeth were trembling.

He wanted her to marry a dead man, and he wanted to completely destroy her life.

The piercing pain, along with the wound on her face, made her feel like being tortured.

His bloodthirsty eyes and eyes filled with hatred locked her coldly. For a moment, Amelia Wytte felt like a caged bird that was imprisoned and beaten .

Coldness and cruelty were all over Nicola Clinton 's body. His dark black standing collar windbreaker made his face more angular, like a God that from another world.

Amelia Wytte stared at him without a blink, staring at the man she loved so much but wanted to destroy her himself.

He took out his phone and found a picture, forcing Amelia Wytte to look at it. "Remember this face. This is your husband, and you can't forget him for the rest of your life."

"If you forget it, my brother will be unhappy."

The dull pain from the back of her head and the coldness on the tiles made Amelia Wytte cry out of pain, but when he saw her painful expression, the man seemed to be satisfied.

"Madman! I won't marry you! I won't..." she shouted hystEden Hawk ally, like a drowning man who tried his best but couldn't grasp a straw.

How could he be her straw? He wished she could drown herself in it.

"It's not up to you." He raised his hand expressionlessly and said, "come in."

The next second, a group of ritual experts and makeup artists came in with a pile of things in order, placing the dresses and all kinds of accessories on the table.

The gorgeous dress was shining with bright light, and Amelia Wytte only felt her eyes hurt.

"Today is her wedding day with second master . I want her to be the most beautiful bride." Nicola Clinton ordered calmly.

The people present were not surprised at all and nodded.

Clenching the sheet hard, Amelia Wytte felt that the man in front of her was extremely ironic and cruel. The people who surrounded her were like a dark cave that was about to devour her.

"Master , this is second master 's portrait."

Nicola Clinton took the cold photo. In the photo, the boy's smile was clean and bright, as if he had no trouble at all.

He touched the edge of the photo frame with his fingers and handed it to Amelia Wytte, "Hold it."

Amelia Wytte was desperate and helpless to the extreme. Her thin shoulders were constantly trembling, and she stubbornly gripped the corner of the quilt.

"Don't cry. He doesn't like it." He pressed the corner of her eyes and threatened coldly.