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Caleb’s string of defeats shattered his empire.
Rumor had it he was gravely ill and later assassinated in the hospital by both enemies and traitorous underlings. He vanished without a trace.
And I, tucked away in Lucas’s villa, lived a life of daily nourishment.
Bird’s nest, snow clams, ginseng, and black chicken soup…
Lucas had his people replenish my strength in every imaginable way, as though trying to refill my drained vitality piece by piece.
He even had someone gather footage of Elen’a being tortured by Caleb’s enemies and sent it to
- me.
On screen, Elena cried hysterically, a complete mess–no longer high and mighty.
Lucas sat across from me, gently swirling red wine, the corners of his eyes lined with amusement. “Feeling better now? Elena, smile–you’re beautiful when you do.”
I stared at the screen blankly, not the slightest stir in my heart.
“Too noisy,” I said mildly, signaling the servant to turn it off.
Elena’s suffering stirred nothing in me.
She brought this upon herself. But seeing her like that, I no longer had the urge to deal with her.
Lucas’s smile faded slightly. “Seems Elena isn’t impressed. No matter. I’m sure you’ll appreciate the next gift.”
He snapped his fingers.
Two bodyguards in black entered, dragging in a gagged, blindfolded man, and threw him down at my feet.
The man whimpered, trembling in terror, the stench of urine hanging in the air. “Recognize him?” Lucas’s voice turned sharp. “This is the one who framed you.”
He paused, then added, “I found him early and kept him here for you.”
My heart clenched, and a bloodthirsty urge surged in my veins.
I wanted to take revenge with my own hands.
“Perfect.” I lowered my eyes, staring at the pathetic figure on the floor, my icy gaze. “Get me a clean room–and tools.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow, and a flash of knowing passed behind his glasses. “Gladly.”
I strongly suspected he’d already prepared everything.
On a cold metal tray, scalpels and hemostats glinted under the light.
I donned rubber gloves and a mask, leaving only my frozen eyes exposed.
The man was strapped to a medical bed, his mouth sealed, reduced to muffled, desperate
groans.
His eyes bulged, bloodshot and wild with fear.
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I picked the sharpest scalpel and stepped toward him.
“Do you remember me?” I leaned in, my voice soft as a lover’s whisper–making him tremble. harder. “Did you ever think this day would come?”
He thrashed, snot and tears streaming, howling like a beast.
I gave him no anesthesia and performed a methodical dissection.
I wanted him to feel every shred of pain, just as I had–and repay it a hundred times.
The cold blade sliced through flesh. Warm blood sprayed out instantly.
His body spasmed, his groans strangled by tape, limbs twisting helplessly.
My face remained emotionless, my hands precise and unshaking.
Every cut carried my hatred–my cry for justice over my parents‘ deaths.
The air thickened with blood, despair, and scorched flesh.
Time dragged endlessly.
When it ended, I was soaked in blood, drenched in sweat, muscles sore from hyper–focus. I nearly collapsed finishing this long–overdue “trial.”
The scalpel clattered onto the tray.
Darkness swallowed my vision, and I fell backward.
Before I lost consciousness, I seemed to see my parents smiling in relief.
I dreamed of what it felt like forever.
There were a mother and father, smiling and calling me “Elena.”
There was also a childlike figure, giggling, running into my arms, softly calling me “Mom.”
It was warm. Everyone was happy.
‘Elena… Elena…”
Someone was calling my name.
I opened my eyes. The dream ebbed like a tide, leaving only emptiness and a bone–deep chill.
Lucas sat by my bedside. When I awoke, a complex smile curled on his lips.
‘You’ve been out for three days. If the doctor hadn’t assured me, I’d have rushed you to the hospital,” he said, voice hoarse.
He reached to feel my forehead, then drew his hand back. “The doctor said you were just exhausted, your emotions overwhelmed you–nothing serious.”
“Elena.” His eyes behind the glasses were deep. “Congratulations on your… new life.”
New life?
I curled my lips in a faint, bloodless smile.
For someone like me, there’s no such thing as a new life–but the place in my dream felt just right for the second half of mine.
“Mr. Zane,” I said, sitting up with effort, my body weak but my eyes unwavering, “Thank you for everything. But I’m leaving.”
Lucas’s smile froze.
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“Leaving?” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Elena, even if Caleb is gone, his men remain. It’s dangerous out there.”
“Why do you keep rejecting me?” His tone softened, coaxing. “Stay with me. I can give you anything you want.”
