?Chapter 1145:


    The Hopkins family didn’t tolerate failures, and Andromache, raised in such a ruthless environment, naturally knew somebat skills. For her own sake, she couldn’t afford to be just a pretty face.


    Corrine observed the battle between Mandy and Andromache with sharp focus, offering asional tips. “Her lower body is her weak point.”


    Mandy immediately picked up on it, adjusting her attacks to target Andromache’s vulnerable spot.


    As the fight grew more intense, Corrine heard the frantic sound of footsteps approaching from outside.


    Without hesitation, she stood up and moved quickly to join the battle.


    Before Mandy could grasp what was unfolding, Corrine had already darted forward, nting herself firmly in front of Andromache.


    “Miss Hond!” Mandy cried out, panic painting her face like a frightened doe caught in the re of oing danger.


    Had Corrine lost her mind? Instead of evading the threat, she was charging headlong into its jaws!


    Andromache barely batted an eye, misinterpreting Corrine’s sudden approach as a brazen act of defiance.


    With a snarl of disdain, she lunged, fingers curling around Corrine’s neck like iron shackles, and mmed her down onto the table. “I’ll kill you!” she spat, her voiceced with murderous intent.


    The fire of her rage roared so fiercely that one hand seemed insufficient to quench it. She mped both hands around Corrine’s throat, determined to crush the very life out of her.


    Suddenly, the door burst open with a force that seemed to shake the walls, and the collective gasp from the gathering outside could have sucked the air from the room.


    Their eyes widened at the sight—Andromache’s hands mped around Corrine’s neck, the sheer savagery etched into her expression for all to see.


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    Earlier that day, in the meeting, Nate had announced Corrine’s identity—his future wife. It was not just a deration but amand that no one should dare question her status. In one breath, he had erased the venomous rumors and demanded unyielding respect for Corrine.


    But now, the scene before them was a bold defiance of his warning—a direct challenge to the man who held their fate in his grasp.


    Corrine’s face flushed crimson, her hands instinctively gripping Andromache’s wrists, struggling for breath as tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes. Her lips quivered as she forced out a trembling plea. “Andromache… I hold no grudge against you… Why… why do you want to kill me?”


    Yet Andromache was beyond reason, her eyes aze with hatred and twisted exhration, oblivious to the crowd’s murmurs and whispers that painted her doom.


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