The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 492

"Don't say that."

Franco seized Petty's hand, his grip tight and desperate. He inhaled sharply, fighting a losing battle to suppress the overwhelming emotion surging through him. The veins in his neck pulled taut.

The memory of that Christmas Eve flashed violently in his mind. He had just lost his grandmother, and Petty had been banished from the family. *To see you every year* had been the only promise he could make.

His voice was a dark, raspy whisper, wrapping around her like a physical weight. "It will come true. You're going to stay right here, by my side."

A suffocating silence fell between them, amplified by the heavy rain violently lashing against the glass.

Franco knew that even with Manley alive, Petty was not the kind of woman who could be chained down by a child. He hadn't even tried to use their son as leverage to trap her. He was the one who couldn't let go. He was the one drowning in this obsession.

Petty turned her head to look at him. Her eyes were empty, stripped of all light and life. "How could we ever be together again?"

There was no anger in her tone, no burning hatred. It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

"If your parents, your grandmother—"

"My grandmother was murdered. She was poisoned," Franco cut in, his grip on her hand tightening possessively.

He lowered his head for a fraction of a second before meeting her gaze again. "I didn't tell you because I had absolutely no leads. I couldn't prove anything."

For a second, the words didn't seem to register. Then, Petty flinched, her fingers trembling against his palm. The deadness in her eyes shattered.

She stared at him, her chest heaving.

Poisoned...

*Poisoned!*

Tears instantly pooled in her reddened eyes, followed closely by a sharp, venomous glint of hatred.

Her throat seized up, making it nearly impossible to speak. "Was it the same poison Laura used on me? Was it Laura?"

Franco's large, warm hand enveloped her trembling fingers. His jaw ticked. "It was Nanette."

The name struck Petty like a physical blow. A heavy, suffocating weight crashed onto her chest, and her ears began to ring.

*Aunt Nanette.*

It was too familiar. Too close to home.

Desperate to put distance between them, Petty tried to yank her hand away and sit up. Franco immediately stood, instinctively reaching out to pull her into his chest to support her. But her body rigidly recoiled, shrinking back against the headboard. Swallowing his hurt, he let her go.

The thought of Adelaide brought a choked sob to Petty's lips. So her grandmother really had been poisoned.

Petty remembered how terrified she had been about Adelaide's declining health. She had forced her to go to the hospital for every test imaginable, yet the doctors had found absolutely nothing.

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