My Bratty Wife Novel Chapter 252 - Two Hundred And Fifty Two

Chapter 252: Chapter Two Hundred And Fifty Two

Ryan stared at his brother, the man he had grown up with, played with, and, in his own way, always loved. The boy whose quiet moods he had never truly understood was now revealed as a monster, a creature forged in a crucible of trauma so profound it had twisted his very soul. Every murder, every conspiracy, every cri that had fallen over the duchy for the past year now had a face, and it was the face of his own brother.

Ryan finally found his voice, a raw, broken whisper. There was one more piece, one more recent death that needed its place in this horrific confession. "Evan..." he began, the na tasting like ash. "Did you kill Evan, too?"

Byron, who had been standing with tears marking paths through the gri on his face, let out a sharp, dismissive laugh that held no humor, only contempt, only hatred. "That bastard?" he sneered. "He kept getting on my nerves, always sniffing around, trying to use

as a pawn in his pathetic gas against you. But he drew the final line when he started getting too close to the truth about , about the Golden Goblet incident. I guess you didn’t know about this too right? I made sure to remove my involvent but as usual, Evan didn’t know when to stop and he was being stupid about it. He had to go, brother. He just had to go."

The admission was casual, as if discussing the culling of a rabid dog, not the murder of a mber of the family.

Tears, hot and silent, finally overflowed and stread down Ryan’s face. He thought of Cassandra, of her almost dying in the well, of the terror she had endured, all stemming from this... this web of death spun by Byron.

Another mory, a puzzle piece that had never quite fit, surfaced. "And the assassin?" he asked, his voice trembling. "Months ago, I was attacked. The attempt failed. I was told... I thought it was all Evan’s plan. But... were you the one who sent that assassin in the first place?"

Byron’s chilling smile returned, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Ah, that. An unfortunate necessity. You were becoming too nosy, big brother," he replied, his tone almost conversational. " Thorne was feeding you with more information than necessary. Your investigation was getting closer, more personal. I couldn’t risk you uncovering everything before my work was done. So, yes. I had to do it. It’s a sha Evan intervened and ruined Elias work."

That was it. The final, most personal betrayal. To know that his own brother, the only family he had left in the world, had not only orchestrated the chaos around them but had actively sought his death. The last thread of hope, of denial, snapped within Ryan. The love he had always held for the brother he thought he knew curdled into a grief so profound it felt like a physical slap to the face. With a hand that shook violently, he raised his own pistol, its heavy weight a terrible burden, and aid it at Byron.

"How could you?" Ryan’s voice broke, a raw sound of utter heartbreak. "Byron, how could you? I love you. Despite everything, despite our differences, I have always loved since the day father brought you ho. I loved you like the only family I have. You are literally the only family I have left." His vision blurred through his tears. "And you... you betrayed . You betrayed everything."

Byron, faced with his brother’s ard and heartbroken condemnation, did not flinch. His own grief and madness mixed into a final, defiant fury. "I DID NOTHING WRONG!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the ruins, startling the very shadows. "I simply avenged my mother! She was wronged! She was destroyed! I killed the people who were responsible for her suffering, the people who stood by and let her die!" He took a step forward, his eyes wild, pleading, demanding. "Tell , Ryan! Tell

what part of that was wrong? Did our father not deserve to die for his cruelty? Did the Parliant not deserve to pay for their hypocrisy? Did they not all get what they deserved?!"

Ryan looked at the man before him, at the storm of pain, rage, and madness, and his heart shattered. There was no reaching him. There was no brother left to save, only a monster born of sorrow. His own tears subsided, replaced by the cold, heavy weight of his duty as Duke, as the upholder of the very laws Byron had so grotesquely twisted.

"You are a murderer, Byron," Ryan said, his voice now devoid of its earlier warmth, hollowed out by grief. "You have taken lives Byron, taken innocent lives of people who did your bidding, you caused untold suffering in the kingdom, and brought dishonor to our house." He paused, took a deep breath then continued. " You will co with

now, quietly, and I will present you to the King to face judgnt for your cris. That is the only justice left."

Byron stared at him, his chest heaving, his eyes wide. He seed to finally understand that Ryan would not, could not, grant him the validation he so desperately craved. The madness seed to drain from him, leaving behind a cold, chilling resolve.

"I won’t be taken as a criminal," he said, his voice dropping to a low, determined whisper. "I will not be paraded in chains, judged by n less worthy than my mother’s mory. I will not rot in a cell."

He looked at Ryan, a final, fleeting flicker of sothing that might have once been brotherly love in his eyes, now twisted into a tragic farewell. "Never. I would rather die."

He raised his pistol, his aim true, his hand suddenly steady. "Goodbye, Ryan."

He pulled the trigger.

In the sa, heart-stopping instant, his own grief and duty solidifying into a terrible, final action, Ryan pulled his own trigger.

BANG!

BANG!!

" Your Grace!!!"