Chapter 616:

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The excitement in his eyes faded, replaced by the cold shock of being seen.

Garrett watched his reaction and knew he had hit the mark.

The shock on the imposter’s face lasted only a second. Then he recovered, and to Garrett’s astonishment, began to applaud softly.

“Brilliant. Truly brilliant,” he said, adjusting his glasses. The lenses reflected the cold night lights. “I must admit, Garrett Thornton, I underestimated you.”

His casual admission of the deception, his utter lack of fear, only confirmed for Garrett that this man’s origins were far more complex than he had imagined.

“Who are you?” Garrett’s voice was like ice. “And what did you do with the real Brice Langley?”

The man let out a short, sharp laugh of contempt. “The real Brice Langley? He should have died years ago. In that fire, with his stupid parents.”

His words were filled with venomous hatred for the Langley family.

𝖳he 𝗯е𝘀𝘵 𝗿𝘦a𝖽𝗶n𝗴 𝖾x𝗉е𝘳𝘪𝗲𝘯𝗰𝖾 𝘰𝘯 𝘨a𝗹no𝘃el𝘴.с𝘰𝘮

Garrett’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms, the pain a desperate anchor to his last thread of sanity. “That fire… you set it?”

“Me?” The man spread his hands in a gesture of mock innocence. “I’m just a survivor. A survivor who crawled back from hell to collect a debt from everyone who wronged me.”

His eyes took on a fanatical gleam. “Your mother, Rosalind Thornton, was the first. And you, Garrett, you’ll be the last. I’m going to make you feel everything I felt. The pain of losing the one you love. The despair of being abandoned by your family.”

Garrett understood now. This man’s revenge wasn’t for a stepmother. It was for himself. He was a complete madman.

There was no point in talking. All that mattered was Amelia. He pulled out his phone to call Clarence.

The fake Brice watched him, a cruel smirk on his face. “Useless. Go on, call. What news do you think you’ll hear? That she’s in surgery? Or that they couldn’t save her?”

That final, vicious suggestion snapped the last thread of Garrett’s self-control.

A strangled roar tore from his throat. He moved like a wounded lion, lunging forward and slamming the imposter against the terrace balustrade with all his force.

The man’s back hit the stone with a sickening thud. His wine glass shattered on the ground.

Casey Henderson, watching from the shadows, felt his heart stop. He broke cover and ran. “Sir!”

Garrett didn’t hear him. He had one hand clamped around the man’s throat, forcing his upper body out over the railing, dangling him meters above the hard ground below.

“Where is she?” Garrett’s eyes were webbed with red, his voice a guttural snarl from a place beyond reason. “Tell me where she is!”

The man choked, his face turning a dark red, but his eyes held no fear, only a sick, ecstatic pleasure.

He forced out a few words. “Kill… me… and you’ll… never… know…”

Garrett’s grip tightened. The urge to kill, to simply end this, roared through his mind like fire.

Just then, Casey and a shocked Sterling Langley finally reached them.

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