The Stolen Heiress: Claimed by her Father's Ruthless Enemy. novel Chapter 42

Chapter 42: He couldn’t kill her.

Alexander watched Anna as she slept peacefully on the hospital bed. He had been watching her for the past thirty minutes and he didn’t know why he hadn’t done what he came here for.

He moved closer to her bed, then reached for the gun in the small of his back and pointed it directly at her head. He was done waiting, now he should proceed. Just one bullet... that was all.

His finger hovered around the trigger, ready to pull. But it was as if the trigger was stuck. His hand felt weak and the gun suddenly became heavy. What was happening to him?

He had never been hesitant to do this before. But at the same time, he never killed anyone innocent.

’Fuck it,’ he muttered under his breath, and tightened his grip on the gun, trying to force himself to pull the trigger. She wasn’t innocent, Alexander reminded himself. She was ’his’ blood. She was part of the reason he suffered so much.

However, the longer he stood there, convincing himself why she deserved to die, the harder it was to go through with it.

He couldn’t kill her.

But why? Why was it always that way? Her father didn’t hesitate when he sent men to kill his mother. So why did he feel reluctant to do the same with his daughter?

Alexander’s fingers loosened slightly around the weapon. Thinking about it, he had spilled a lot of blood, taken so many lives to get to where he was now. Yet, none of it had filled the void. And now, with Anna lying defenseless in front of him, he realized this wouldn’t either.

Killing her wouldn’t bring his mother back. It wouldn’t erase the scars on his body or the memories that haunted him every night. It wouldn’t undo the years of pain and torment.

Why did he feel like he was the one begging for mercy now?

Alexander exhaled sharply and lowered the gun completely. A wave of frustration and disgust washed over him... not at her, but at himself. He felt the sudden urge to turn the gun at himself and pull the trigger through his own heart.

This was all he had planned for ten years, to make George Steele suffer and crawl on his knees in front of his feet. But now he couldn’t even pull that off.

Casting one last look at Anna’s peaceful face, Alexander slipped the gun back into the holster, then turned away from her and walked out of the room, clenching his jaw to contain the tumult of emotions rising inside of him.

Once he was outside, Ethan came to him.

"What did you find?" Alexander asked.

"I got the van’s plate number and was able to track it down. The van belonged to some old man in the other neighborhood. When I confronted him, he said something totally different..." Ethan paused and looked at him.

"What did he say?" Alexander demanded, his patient running thin.

"He explained that a young man rented the van two days prior to the accident, and he didn’t know who it was. But based on his description, I figured out it was actually the wanted guy on the poster."

"Wanted guy?"

Ethan nodded.

Alexander raised a brow. What did a wanted guy have to do with Anna?

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