Chapter 776

Henry's piercing gaze locked onto Eleanor. "Don't you think you owe me an explanation for everything?"

Eleanor knew the game was up. There was no use pretending anymore.

She met his stare with icy composure. "What exactly would you like me to explain?"

Her detached tone only stoked Henry's fury. In two swift strides, he closed the distance between them, his fingers closing around her throat with bruising force.

Eleanor gasped for air as Henry loomed over her, his handsome features twisted with rage. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "That naive, kind-hearted girl you once knew? She died a long time ago."

Henry's eyes darkened to crimson, his entire body radiating a bone-chilling wrath. He looked positively terrifying.

"What are you talking about? Your father died because of my family. We took you in, raised you as one of our own. I treated you like a sister—wasn't that enough?"

"Enough?" Eleanor spat, her voice dripping with venom. "You gave me a mansion, yes, but that was never what I wanted. All I've ever wanted was you!"

Henry recoiled as if struck.

"We grew up together—childhood sweethearts. If it weren't for Isabella, I would have been your wife. I should have been Mrs. Lancaster!"

Her voice cracked with raw emotion. "But you married her instead. Do you have any idea how much that destroyed me? It hurt worse than dying! Watching you two together after the wedding—so close, so in love—it was unbearable. Why should Isabella take everything from me? She's nothing but a nuisance. If she were gone, you'd finally see me! I want her dead!"

The sheer intensity of her jealousy and hatred contorted Eleanor's delicate features into something monstrous. Henry took an involuntary step back. "Eleanor, you're unrecognizable. The girl I knew is gone."

"I changed because of Isabella! Because of you!"

Her gaze lingered on his face with disturbing reverence. Slowly, she reached out, her fingers trembling as they neared his cheek.

"Why can't you understand? I love you. More than she ever could."

Just before her fingertips could make contact, Henry jerked away with a look of disgust. With one forceful shove, he sent her sprawling to the floor.

Eleanor landed in an undignified heap, her carefully styled hair now a tangled mess.

Henry stared down at her, his expression colder than she'd ever seen.

"Let me make this clear. I never had feelings for you—not then, not now, not ever. My only regret is being blind to your true nature for so long. My family's debt to yours is paid in full. From this moment on, you mean nothing to me. If you ever lay a finger on my wife or anyone I care about again, I swear you'll regret it."

The venom in his voice sent a visible tremor through the room. The realization that he'd been sheltering the very person who'd tormented Isabella all these years made his blood boil.

Eleanor's face drained of color. In that moment, she knew—Henry would never be hers. Not in this lifetime.