2025-06-26 20:07:53
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Chapter 254
Elias’s sharp laugh cut him off. “Medicine?” he repeated, his voice thick with disbelief. His gray brows furrowed, and the faint tremor in his jaw betrayed the fury he was holding back. “Are you a doctor now?” His eyes glinted coldly under the dim lamp. “Did anyone here ask for your help?”The words stung like a slap, but Antonio didn’t flinch. He straightened his shoulders, forcing his voice to remain calm, though his pulse hammered in his throat. “No one asked,” he admitted quietly, “but standing here doing nothing won’t change anything. Look at her—your wife is suffering. If we don’t act now—”“Act?” Elias hissed, stepping closer, the floorboards creaking beneath his boots. “You talk as if you understand what’s happening here. You think you can just walk into my home, look at my wife, and fix her like some broken machine?”The venom in his tone filled the room like smoke.Cynthia flinched at her father’s harshness, the tears clinging to her lashes catching the flicker of the
CHAPTER 253
The cries in the room had grown faint, replaced by the sound of shallow, uneven breathing. The scent of burning incense hung in the thick air, mixed with the faint metallic trace of medicine. Marianne lay still on the narrow bed, her chest rising and falling in irregular rhythm. Her skin glistened with sweat; her hair clung to her temples in damp, tangled curls. Every few seconds, her body twitched, as though caught between sleep and pain.Around her, the crowd of relatives, neighbors, and longtime family friends stood in uneasy silence. Some whispered prayers. Others simply watched, helpless. Their faces were mirrors of fear—creased brows, tight jaws, hands clenched together in helpless anxiety. The only sounds were Marianne’s strained breathing and the rhythmic ticking of the old wall clock above the door.Cynthia stood near the foot of the bed, her hands trembling. Her eyes were red and swollen, her lips dry from hours of crying. She turned to Antonio, who stood beside her,
Chapter 252
The moment Antonio and Cynthia stepped into the house, a wave of heat and tension hit them like a storm. The air was thick with confusion, murmurs, and the smell of burning incense. From the threshold, Antonio could already sense something was terribly wrong.All around the large living room were people — neighbors, relatives, and strangers — some standing, others kneeling, their faces drawn with worry and fear. The low hum of whispered prayers mixed with occasional cries made the place feel almost haunted.Right at the center of it all was a bed, surrounded by anxious faces. Antonio could barely see what lay on it, but whatever it was had captured the full attention of everyone in the room.Cynthia froze beside him, clutching her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. “That’s my mother’s bed,” she whispered, her voice trembling.Antonio’s brow furrowed. “Then let’s see what’s happening.”He led her through the small crowd, careful not to bump into the people kneeling on the f
Chapter 251
Antonio sat up straighter, his entire posture shifting. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”A pause. Then the faint sound of a sob. “No,” she murmured, “it’s not me. It’s… my mother. She’s in a terrible condition. The doctors said things aren’t looking good.” Her voice cracked with emotion, the words dissolving into shallow breaths. “Please… can you come over? I can’t go there alone.”Antonio’s fingers tightened around the phone. For a moment, he said nothing. He had spent the week buried in work, consumed by thoughts of Blackthorne—the man who had destroyed everything that mattered to him. He’d been planning his next move, piecing together threads of vengeance that demanded precision. But Cynthia’s voice which was so fragile and broken pulled him out of that darkness.He exhaled quietly, his tone softening. “Of course, Cynthia. Where are you now?”“At my apartment,” she replied between sniffles. “If you come, we can go together to my parents’ place. It’s a few hours’ drive from here
Chapter 250
Antonio sat in his study long after the rest of the mansion had gone quiet. The room was in silence, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the antique clock above the fireplace, and the slow crackle of burning wood. In his hand, Antonio held a half-filled glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light every time the fire flickered. His reflection in the glass looked almost foreign—hardened and hollow, like a man carrying ghosts. He hadn’t slept properly in days. Every time he closed his eyes, his mother’s face appeared before him—gentle, kind, and yet broken.He could still remember the call. The trembling voice on the other end. His mother’s death had been more than a loss—it had been a message. Someone had wanted to hurt him, and they’d succeeded.That alone made Antonio’s blood run cold. There were people without conscience and boundaries. They were the ones responsible for the fire that took her life and they had vanished without a trace.Blackthorn definitely had a
Chapter 249
The air around the isolated building was thick with tension. Antonio moved through the shadows, carrying Liora in his arms. Her weight was light as if she had been hollowed out by terror.Her torn dress fluttered against his arm, brushing like silk against steel. Strands of her hair clung to her bruised cheek, and her breath came in shallow, uneven pulls. The rise and fall of her chest was fragile, the sound of it barely louder than the whisper of wind sneaking through the cracks.Antonio’s jaw was tight and the fury in his chest was cold, controlled and contained. His eyes burned with quiet violence as he moved swiftly toward the exit.He was only a few steps from freedom when two figures emerged from the side corridor. They were Greg’s remaining men. They were large, brutal-looking men with swollen faces and bloodshot eyes, the kind that had lived their lives following orders they didn’t understand. Their desperation was palpable; the glint of fear in their eyes was sharper t
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