The Tyrant's Return : From Beggar to Sovereign

Chapter 13: The Wicked Scheme in the Dark

The rain was falling harder now, washing the fresh blood from Julian’s broken face into the dirty street gutters. He lay there like a crushed bug on the cold pavement outside the grand bank.

But miles away, on the other side of the city, Beatrice Miller was sitting inside a cheap, greasy public toilet stall, her eyes wild with a manic, terrifying light.

She had managed to run away from the legal officers at the mansion while they were busy loading her luxury sofas into the giant white moving trucks.

The electric taser shock had left her muscles stiff and trembling, but the absolute hatred burning in her chest kept her moving. She had lost her house. She had lost her gold jewelry. She had lost her high status in the city.

Her entire world had turned into ash in a single morning.

And in her twisted, wicked mind, it was all Ethan's fault.

"That dirty little beggar," Beatrice hissed through her broken teeth, her fingernails scratching hard against the cheap plastic wall of the toilet stall. "He did this to us. He used some dirty trick to flip our debts. He thinks he can destroy the Miller family and walk away smiling. I will make him pay.

I will pierce his heart where it hurts the most."

She opened a large plastic garbage bag she had stolen from a cleaning cart down the hallway.

Inside the bag was a crisp, white nurse uniform and a blue surgical mask. Beatrice quickly stripped off her dirty, mud stained dress and forced her heavy body into the clean uniform. She pulled the blue mask over her nose and mouth, hiding her aging, angry face.

She looked at herself in the cracked mirror above the sink. With the medical hat and the mask on, she looked exactly like any regular hospital worker. Nobody would ever suspect a thing.

Ten minutes later, Beatrice walked calmly through the back entrance of the Cresthaven General Hospital. This was the exact hospital where Ethan’s younger sister, Lily, had been trapped in a deep, silent coma for the past twelve months.

The hospital smells of strong bleach and medicine filled the air. Beatrice walked down the long, quiet hallways, her cheap rubber shoes squeaking softly against the polished white tiles.

Her heart was beating like a wild drum inside her chest, but it was not because of fear. It was because of pure, unadulterated malice. She knew that Lily was Ethan’s only true weakness. He loved that little girl more than life itself. He had worked three jobs and taken a thousand slaps just to pay for her daily medical bills.

"If that little rat dies, Ethan will go completely insane," Beatrice whispered to herself, a cruel, disgusting smile forming beneath her blue mask. "Let's see how much your giant Vance Group can help you when your precious sister is breathing her very last breath."

She reached the elevator bank and pressed the button for the third floor. The VIP recovery wing.

When the elevator doors slid open, Beatrice stepped out into a completely silent corridor.

The lights were dimmed, and the private rooms were spaced far apart. She looked up at the plastic signs on the wall, tracking the room numbers one by one.

Room 302. Room 304. Room 306.

Finally, she stopped right in front of Room 308. A small plastic card slipped into the metal slot on the door read the name in clear, bold letters: Lily Vance.

Beatrice took a deep, shaky breath. She grabbed the cold brass door handle, pushed it down slowly, and slipped inside the room like a shadow in the night.

The room was completely dark, except for the tiny, blinking green lights of the massive life support machines surrounding the bed. The only sound in the space was the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor and the soft, mechanical hum of the artificial breathing pump.

Beatrice stepped closer to the bed, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She looked down at Lily. The young girl looked incredibly fragile, her face pale and thin, her long hair spread across the white pillow like silk. A thick clear plastic tube was taped securely to her mouth, pumping life saving oxygen directly into her small lungs.

"You look just like your pathetic brother," Beatrice mocked in a low, poisonous whisper, stepping right up to the main power unit of the breathing machine.

Her fat, shaking fingers reached out toward the heavy black electrical cord plugged into the wall socket. This machine was the only thing keeping Lily’s soul inside her body. If the plug was pulled, the oxygen would stop instantly. In less than two minutes, the little girl’s heart would stop beating forever.

Beatrice gripped the thick rubber plug with all her might. Her face twisted into a demonic grin of victory. She could already picture Ethan screaming and crying over his sister's cold body. She braced her feet against the floor, ready to yank the cord out of the wall with a single violent pull.

But before her fingers could even twist the plastic prong, the temperature inside the hospital room suddenly dropped down to absolute ice.

A heavy, terrifying presence filled the dark room, so strong that Beatrice felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. A strange, thick shadow moved near the corner of the room, right by the wooden door of the private bathroom.

Beatrice froze, her breath catching in her throat. She slowly turned her head toward the darkness.

The bathroom door swung open without making a single sound. A towering figure stepped out of the bathroom shadows, his massive body completely blocking the light.

He was wrapped in a perfectly fitted black combat suit, and his eyes were as cold and sharp as a butcher's knife. This was Captain Iron, the top elite personal bodyguard of the Vance Supreme Family. He had been standing in the dark for five hours, waiting for the rat to enter the trap.

Before Beatrice could even open her mouth to scream, a massive, rock hard hand shot out from the dark like a striking cobra.

A towering bodyguard steps out of the bathroom shadows, grabbing Beatrice by the throat.