Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 306 - Three Hundred And Five

Ashlyn’s accusation hung in the heavy silence. You murderer.

Beatrice stood completely still. Her aged hands gripped her wooden cane so tightly that her knuckles turned pure white. The old woman slowly turned her head. She looked down at Carlos, who was still kneeling on the hard stones.

"Is this true?" Beatrice asked. Her voice was no longer loud, but it trembled with a dark, terrifying intensity. Her eyes, usually clouded with age, were now blazing with an absolute, furious anger. She stared at her grandson, demanding the truth.

Carlos felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead, mixing with the dirt and blood on his skin. He panicked. His mind raced to find another lie, another excuse to save his own skin. He opened his mouth. He was about to deny everything. He was about to say Ashlyn was insane, that she had hurt herself to frame him.

But before a single word could escape his lips, a deep, commanding voice stopped him cold.

"If I am to choose who to believe between my brother and my sister-in-law in this matter," the voice echoed across the courtyard, firm and absolute, "I would choose my sister-in-law."

Carlos blinked. He jerked his head toward the sound.

The heavy front doors opened wider. Derek stepped out into the flickering yellow light of the courtyard lanterns. He was dressed in his dark trousers and a simple shirt, but he carried the undeniable aura of the Grand Duke. He walked down the steps with slow, deliberate strides and stood right beside Marissa. He placed a protective hand on the small of her back.

Carlos stared at his older brother, his heart sinking into his stomach. "Brother..." Carlos whispered, his voice shaking.

Derek looked down at Carlos with eyes as hard and unforgiving as cold steel. He had heard the shouting from his study. He had heard Ashlyn’s agonizing cry about the lost child. He knew his brother was a coward, a man who would gladly hit a woman behind closed doors to feel strong.

"As the head of the Thompson family," Derek spoke. His voice was loud enough for every servant, every guard, and every shadow in the courtyard to hear. It was a formal declaration. It was a sentence of doom.

Carlos’s eyes widened in pure terror. "Derek, no, please wait—"

"I hereby remove your name from the family registry," Derek announced, his words falling like heavy stones.

The courtyard went deathly quiet. Even the wind seemed to stop. Removing a name from the registry was the ultimate punishment. It meant social death. It meant Carlos was no longer a noble. He would have no title, no money, no protection, and no home. He would be nothing but a beggar on the streets.

"You are no longer associated with the Thompsons," Derek continued, his face showing zero mercy. "You have caused us a lot of disgrace and scandal. But this... beating your own wife, giving your wife as tribute for favor, killing your own unborn child... this is the highest inhuman act you have ever committed in this family."

Derek pointed a long, steady finger toward the tall iron gates of the estate.

"You are to evacuate immediately," Derek commanded.

Carlos completely broke down. The reality of his ruin crashed over him. He ignored his bleeding back. He scrambled forward on his hands and knees, crawling up the stone steps like a desperate animal. He reached for the hem of the old woman’s dress.

"Grandmother, please!" Carlos begged, tears and snot running down his face. "Please don’t let him do this! I am your grandson! I have Thompson blood! You cannot throw me away! Please, speak to him! Save me!"

He clawed at the stone, looking up at Beatrice with pathetic, wide eyes.

Beatrice looked down at him. She saw the boy she had raised, the boy she had spoiled and protected for so many years. But she also saw the blood on his hands. She saw the monster he had become.

Slowly, painfully, Beatrice closed her eyes. She turned her head away. She could not look at him anymore. Her silence was her final answer. She agreed with the Grand Duke.

Carlos let out a loud, wretched wail. He realized he had truly lost everything. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Derek did not waste another second on his brother. He turned his cold gaze toward the courtyard, looking at the woman standing in the dirt.

He looked at Ashlyn.

Ashlyn was still breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling. She had exposed Carlos, but she did not feel victorious. She felt empty.

"You are not spared either," Derek told her, his voice flat and serious.

Ashlyn flinched as if he had struck her. She looked up at him, confused and terrified.

"A divorce certificate will be drafted soon," Derek stated, sealing her fate just as quickly as he had sealed his brother’s. "You will also leave this family today. You will pack whatever you came with, and you will go."

Ashlyn’s eyes widened in horror. "What?" she gasped.

The numbness shattered. Panic flooded her veins. She had nothing outside these walls. If she was divorced and thrown out after a scandal, no other noble family would ever take her in. Her parents won’t even welcome her. She would be an outcast, ruined forever in the capital.

"No!" Ashlyn shouted. She shook her head frantically, taking a step forward. "No! I’m not going anywhere! You cannot do this to me!"

She pointed an accusing finger at Carlos, who was still weeping on the steps.

"I’m not at fault!" Ashlyn screamed, her voice cracking with desperation. "He beat me! He dragged me to the Prince! I was the victim tonight! I did nothing wrong!"

Carlos, hearing her voice, suddenly found his anger again. He tried to plead with Derek and Beatrice one last time, pointing back at Ashlyn. "She is the one who ruined us! She is the curse! Throw her out, not me!"

Derek had heard enough. The noise, the lies, the pathetic groveling—it disgusted him.

"Guards!" Derek’s voice boomed like thunder across the courtyard.

Instantly, four heavy-set guards in the Thompson family uniform stepped out from the shadows near the gates. They marched forward with quick, disciplined steps.

"Throw them out!" Derek ordered, waving his hand dismissively.

Two guards grabbed Carlos. They grabbed him roughly by his upper arms, hauling him off the stone steps. Carlos kicked his legs, his boots scraping against the stones.

"Brother!" Carlos screamed, looking back at Derek with wild eyes. "Brother, please! Have mercy! I am your blood! Brother!!!"

His screams echoed into the night as the guards dragged him forcefully toward the large iron gates. They did not care about his bleeding back. They dragged him like a sack of garbage and threw him out onto the dark street.

The other two guards approached Ashlyn.

"Let me go!" Ashlyn screamed as their large hands clamped down on her bruised shoulders. She struggled, twisting her body and kicking out, but she was weak and exhausted. They held her firmly.

Beatrice could not bear to watch any more of the disgrace. The old woman let out a long, shaky sigh. She turned her frail body toward the open doors of the house.

Derek immediately stepped to her side. He offered his strong arm to his grandmother. He gently took the old woman and guided her back into the warmth of the house, leaving the cold, ugly reality of the courtyard behind.

The doors did not close completely. Marissa remained standing on the top step.

She watched the guards drag Carlos away. Now, it was Ashlyn’s turn. The guards began to pull the struggling, weeping woman toward the same iron gates.

Marissa looked at her sister. She looked at the torn dress, the bloody skin, the absolute despair on Ashlyn’s face.

"Wait," Marissa said. " I want to have a word with her."