CHAPTER 258: ANGRY HUSBAND_"WHO DID THAT TO HER?!"_PART 2

Belle watched the rain falling in a soft drizzle now, lightning flashing across the sky, followed by a distant rumble of thunder that seemed to shake the fragile building. She sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the boy to return with her meal. But even after half an hour, there was still no sign of him, and she was starving, her throat dry with thirst.

To pass the time, Belle idly looked through the baby things she had urgently packed, arranging them carefully, folding and unfolding them, smelling each one as they still held the faint scent of Rohan. The baby clothes had been tucked away in the same drawer that held Rohan’s attire in the wardrobe.

Since the day he told her their unborn child was a boy, she had begun placing every new set of sweaters and baby items into Rohan’s section of the wardrobe instead of her own. She inhaled deeply, letting the familiar scent calm her until she began to grow sleepy.

Unable to hold off her hunger any longer before she drifted to sleep, she decided to go and check what was keeping the lad so long, especially when he had said the eatery was just across the street.

She stood up and walked out of the room, her booted feet creaking against the wooden floors. For some reason, the hall looked empty and quiet, too quiet for a place where she had been told the rooms were occupied. There was no one in the long corridor, and she heard nothing beyond the heavy fall of the rain pounding the roof. Still, she walked forward.

Belle’s feet immediately froze when, out of nowhere, a Reaper appeared in front of her, blocking her path. Her heart plummeted into her stomach as the anxiety of the Reaper’s sudden appearance sent her nerves into a jittery frenzy.

The creature wasn’t looking at her at first, but as if sensing her sudden halt, it slowly turned in her direction. Its eyes, burning like the flames of hell, fell on her. She was struck with shock to see that, unlike the other Reapers she had encountered, this one was taller, broader, and its scythe was longer.

Belle knew it was foolish to stand there, frozen, under its gaze as though trying to determine whether she could actually see it. So, she acted quickly. She bent down with difficulty, pretending to adjust her boot, then stood straight again. Holding her breath and willing her heart to still, she walked right through the creature like cascading water. As she passed through its body, every hair on her body stood on end, and she felt chilled to the bone.

Only when she rounded a corner and felt sure she was out of the Reaper’s sight did she release the breath she had held in her lungs, her hand moving to rub her throbbing chest.

It seemed like no matter where she went, death followed. What was a Reaper doing here again? Why did it feel like death itself was trailing her? Belle thought in frustration. The presence of a Reaper that size could only mean one thing: a significant death was near—a death she wanted no part in.

Without hesitation, she retraced her steps and hurried back to her room, gathering her things in a rush. Staying here was no longer an option. Someone was bound to die.

Belle bundled her belongings again and rushed out into the hall, only to find three more Reapers hovering silently. She forced herself to walk right through them, pretending not to see anything. She was already a fugitive in the land of the living; she could not afford to draw the attention of the other realm.

Belle didn’t think too hard about where she was going. She just moved quickly into the open hall where the clerk’s desk stood, only to stop abruptly at the scene she stumbled into, her eyes widening in horror and her legs moving back instinctively at the blood pooled on the floor.

Every nerve in her body stilled as shock and horror consumed her, her gaze dropping to the floor.

The boy she had been waiting for lay dead before her, a gaping hole in his head, his eyes wide open. The elderly man she had met that morning lay beside him, facedown, blood soaking his unmoving body.

All color drained from her face, and bile surged up her throat at the horror and gore of the scene. She felt sick to her stomach, but unfortunately, it was far too empty for anything to come out.

The man responsible stood at a distance by the entrance, his back leaning casually against the wall and a rifle in his hand, watching her calmly. The Councilman.

Belle took another step back as he pushed off the wall.

"It’s about time you finally came out, and here I thought I’d been led to the wrong place again," he said, his voice cold and devoid of humor. His eyes held a hard, merciless expression that made her take another step backward.

She must not have heard the gunfire because of the loud thunder and rain, and certainly had missed the commotion that must have followed, as the room she was given was too deep in the building.

"Wh-why would you hurt innocent people?" Belle asked, her voice shaky. Her eyes dropped to the lifeless boy she had sent to get her food. He had gotten it, too—right beside his body was a spilled bowl of soup and tea. Her throat tightened, and angry, tear-filled eyes rose to the man who showed no remorse for taking the life of a happy young boy.

"They’re not citizens of Bimmerville. I don’t care about their lives, woman. I only want to get my hands on you—and they got in my way, trying to stop me from storming into their establishment to search for a criminal. That’s an offense. And before I put another one of my bullets in your head, I suggest you come with me," the Councilman said calmly, pulling a long rope from his coat pocket, as if he planned to tie her like an animal.

At that moment, more of his men rushed into the establishment, closing off every possible escape.

"Sire, we’ve looked around but—" one of them started to report, then stopped short when his eyes landed on Belle.

"You found her!"

"Get the bitch," the Councilman ordered, when Belle took another step back instead of coming forward to be tied up and dragged back to Bimmerville for their experiment, before being executed.

Belle turned on her heels and ran back into the hallway she had come from. The establishment had been built so that the front desk opened into a separate hallway that led to the rooms, with its own door. Belle bolted through it, slammed the door behind her, and locked it quickly, drawing back as she heard the men rush forward and begin slamming their shoulders into the thick oak door, trying to break it down.

Belle looked around frantically for an escape route, but there was none. The window at the end of the hallway was too high and too small. All the rooms lining the corridor were locked from within. Her heart beat wildly and loudly in her ears. She knew she had nowhere left to run. She was trapped, caught between a dead end and people who wanted her dead.