The Day Our Promise Breaks (Charles and Evelyn) novel Chapter 646

“Charles, go ahead—kill me! But you better know, if I die, that little brat Charlie’s coming with me. Do you have the guts?”

Luna’s voice was rough, every word laced with poison, like a snake tasting the air.

A storm broke loose in Charles’s eyes, an explosion of fury that seemed to freeze the already icy air of the cellar.

Suddenly, he lunged forward, his hand snapping around Luna’s throat, fingers digging in like iron clamps.

She choked out a strangled gasp—her smugness vanished, wiped away by raw terror as she realized she couldn’t breathe.

Charles’s knuckles stood out, white and unyielding, his grip merciless and absolute.

The air was gone in a heartbeat.

Luna’s eyes bulged, bloodshot and wild, locked on Charles’s face—so close, so cold, so merciless he could have been the devil himself.

Her face turned from red to a horrifying shade of purple. The veins at her temples and along her neck bulged, ready to burst.

Pain wracked her body, making her convulse uncontrollably, flopping on the filthy floor like a fish out of water.

She was suffocating.

Death’s shadow closed in, cold and heavy.

Yet in the depths of Luna’s oxygen-starved eyes, there still burned a twisted, desperate madness—she was willing to risk everything.

Was she afraid to die? Absolutely.

The terror of near-death in a hellhole up north, the memory of fighting for her life on the operating table—she treasured this stolen life more than anyone could know.

But right now, she was betting everything.

She was betting Charles wouldn’t dare let her die.

He owed that little bastard Charlie too much because of Sandy. If Luna died and took Charlie with her, that guilt would haunt Charles forever.

Even if Charlie was still alive, that splinter of guilt was wedged deep in Charles’s heart.

With Charlie’s fate in her hands, Luna knew Charles would never risk her life.

She forced her head up, vision blurred with tears, and stared at the man standing over her.

Charles looked down at her, eyes ice-cold and unforgiving.

But Luna caught the truth in his clenched, bone-white fists and the tight set of his jaw—the storm he was barely holding back.

A twisted, blood-tinged smile tugged at her bruised lips, part agony, part triumph.

She’d won.

Charles—

In the end, you still couldn’t kill me.

She would always come out on top.

Charles had no choice left—except to marry her.