"I am." Zachary's voice cracked, strained to the breaking point. "The second you said there was no chance for us—I lost my mind."
He dropped to his knees without hesitation.
The sharp needles pierced his trousers, blood gushing from the wounds.
Veins bulged on his forehead, but he gritted his teeth and said nothing.
One step, two steps...
A hundred steps in, the long needle staircase was stained red.
Zachary crawled to Josselyn, his knee completely mangled—no longer the cold, proud head of the Penrose family.
Red-eyed, he begged weakly, "I did the thirteen thousand needles. Josselyn, will you forgive me now?"
She pulled his hand away without a shred of mercy, each word sharp and clear. "I will not."
The three words shattered his last shred of pride.
Zachary collapsed to the groun
