Chapter 103: Murdering Her Own Husband

Vino’s voice quivered as she started to speak, only for a hand to abruptly seize her throat, the sudden harsh light nearly blinding her. Vino, momentarily oblivious to the peril at his neck, was captivated by the face before him. This man was even more striking than depicted in the media, with his dense, neatly-arranged eyebrows, a prominent nose, and eyes as piercing as aged whisky—irresistibly intoxicating. “Mr. Jefferson, I... my name is Vino,” she managed, her voice a timid whisper. Henry’s grip tightened ferociously as he hurled her towards the nearby rocks, her body slamming against them with a painful cry. She gazed up at him in disbelief. “Why doesn’t he like me when I’m obviously more attractive?” she wondered in silent agony. With a look of disgust, Henry methodically cleaned each of his fingers with a handkerchief that had touched her; then carelessly tossed his coat over her crumpled form. Vino's heart surged with renewed pain, convinced that Mr. Jefferson had regret