Chapter 4

Kaya looked at the furious father, then at me barely clinging to life.

In the end, she walked toward me:

"Your hand... Let me take you to the hospital to treat your wounds."

As soon as she finished speaking, Liam bent over clutching his stomach, his voice weak:

"Kaya, my stomach doesn't feel good."

"Don't worry, I'll take you to the hospital right now."

Kaya carefully supported him. From start to finish, she didn't spare me even a glance.

My father's voice was like a poisoned blade as he ordered the bodyguards:

"Clean this up. Don't let certain people have a chance to harm Liam!"

After speaking, they quickly followed, escorting Liam to the hospital.

The chaotic scene was suddenly left with only me.

"See? Who would like a rapist?"

The man from earlier squatted down, his nails digging into the wound on my hand.

"Weren't you pretty good at dodging just now? Why aren't you dodging now?"

Another spat in my face:

"Rapists should be nailed to the pillory!"

They tied me spread-eagle to a pillar, then pulled out a box of needle and thread from a bag.

"Since he likes throwing dirt on others, let's sew his mouth shut!"

"And those hands—destroy them all!"

I struggled desperately, only to receive over a hundred slaps in return.

A bodyguard nearby couldn't bear watching anymore and called my father.

"Sir, Daniel is being assaulted by passersby right now. What should we..."

"You're calling me over something this trivial?"

My father impatiently cut him off.

Through the phone came the sounds of Kaya and my mother fussing over Liam.

After a long while, my father added in an icy tone:

"Today, I won't allow anything that damages Liam's reputation to get out."

"As for that bastard, let them do whatever they want. As long as he's breathing."

Those thugs overheard the conversation and doubled over laughing:

"Hear that? You're at our mercy!"

When the needle pierced my lip, the taste of rust filled my mouth.

One stitch, two stitches—the thread pulled at the flesh, sewing my screams back into my throat.

The steel needle shuttled back and forth between my upper and lower lips. After just a few passes, my mouth was full of blood.

Then they raised the iron hammer, lifting and dropping it.

The bones in my wrists and ankles shattered completely.

But what came from my throat wasn't screaming—it was broken whimpering.

I don't know how long they tortured me. Finally bored, they threw me into the icy river water.

Rain poured down mercilessly, the cold making even the bone fragments in my joints scream.

I bit through my back molars and used my chin to brace against the riverbank, dragging my body up inch by inch.

My phone screen glowed dimly in the rain.

When I pressed those numbers, the stitched lips tore open again, blood dripping on the screen.

This number had mysteriously appeared on my bedside during my imprisonment.

He said that if I agreed to cooperate, all my grievances could be cleared.

"Hello?"

I opened my mouth, letting blood and rain flow together into my throat:

"I agree to cooperate."

My voice was so hoarse it didn't sound human.

"Name any condition. I want them all to go to hell!"

This was my last chance!