Chapter 592:

🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙

“If Renee doesn’t leave him now, she’s blindly in love. No one respects a woman like that!”

“Claiming mental illness after killing someone is just a way to escape the law!”

“Marcelo killed his own brother! That’s monstrous!”

“He probably thinks that with his brother gone, he’s the sole heir to the King fortune. Disgusting.”

𝘕𝖾𝘸 𝖼𝗁𝗮𝘱𝗍e𝘳𝘀 𝘦𝘃е𝘳y w𝖾𝗲k o𝗻 𝗴𝗮𝗹ո𝘰𝘷𝖾l𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝘮

Renee’s anger simmered as she scrolled. She silently cursed the absurd, cruel comments.

Then the reporters’ aggressive faces flashed in her mind—their sharp questions, their hungry eyes.

Marcelo didn’t deserve any of it.

The grief of his youth and the neglect he’d suffered from his family were burdens enough.

As her anger slowly settled, Renee found herself calling Vivian.

The moment the line connected, she didn’t waste time. “Do you know the real reason Sebastian died?”

Vivian’s voice was calm—almost as if she had been expecting the call.

“Renee, I have something that can clear Marcelo’s name,” Vivian said. “Right now, I might be the only person who has proof.”

Renee’s heart skipped. “What do you want in return?”

“Leave Marcelo.”

If there had been a mirror in front of Renee at that moment, she would have seen how blank her face had gone.

Vivian’s demand stunned her, even though some part of Renee had expected it.

More than anger, the sheer absurdity made her want to laugh.

Her voice turned sharp. “Vivian, are you seriously letting people slander him? After all those years of friendship, how can you stand by while he’s being dragged through the mud?”

“I only look out for my own man,” Vivian chuckled. “If Marcelo stays with you, I don’t care what happens to him.” Her tone stayed light, almost playful. “Renee, if you really love him, shouldn’t you be willing to make sacrifices for him?”

“That’s wishful thinking,” Renee snapped. She ended the call without another word.

When Marcelo returned, he found Renee sitting on the sofa, her face set in cold fury—so still it almost looked calm.

“What’s wrong?” Marcelo asked as he took out the medicine.

He had asked the pharmacist how to use it and had double-checked the instructions. He warmed the liquid between his palms, then applied it to Renee’s ankle with slow, careful movements.

“I got a call that annoyed me,” Renee said with a pout, her mood clearly ruined.

Marcelo lifted a hand as if to touch her face, then stopped—remembering his fingers were coated in medicine.

Renee didn’t seem eager to explain further, and he didn’t push.

As Marcelo gently massaged the medicine into her ankle, Renee felt a heavy pressure settle in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

There was proof out there.

But it wasn’t within her reach—and it certainly wasn’t something she could use.

If Marcelo were ever to leave her for any reason, she wouldn’t want it either.

The heart wasn’t a business transaction. Treating it like one was reckless.

“This will blow over in a few days. Don’t dwell on it,” Marcelo reassured her after washing his hands. “If you’re feeling restless, invite your friends to the mansion.”

Renee couldn’t go out much anyway, wary of running into more trouble.

“Okay.” Renee nodded.

.

.

.