Chapter 2

"Shut up!" Christina shrieked, cutting me off.

I had clearly struck a nerve.

She slapped me hard across the face again, and I spat out a mouthful of blood. When I saw Roland's smug face, hatred boiled inside me.

"Stubborn and unrepentant!" I snarled.

Enraged, Christina kicked me in the chest with her high heel, digging it deep into my flesh. I staggered and fell. Shaking, I pressed my hand over the gushing wound.

Still not satisfied, she stepped on the back of my hand and ground down hard. Only when my hand was bloody and mangled did she speak, her voice dripping with malice.

"Since you refuse to learn, I'll just have to teach you myself."

At her command, her henchman—ignoring my struggles—dragged me like roadkill down to the basement, stripped me naked, and tied me to a cross.

Old wounds that had repeatedly split open and scabbed over the past three years tore apart again under the iron chains. Blood continued to gush out, and it was a horrifying sight.

Christina ignored it all. She lifted my chin with a leather whip soaked in salt water, forcing me to meet her eyes.

"I'll give you one more chance. Apologize and swear you'll never mention what happened three years ago again, and I'll let you go."

Roland stood behind her, a triumphant look in his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

My whole body shook from the pain. The eye that was glaring at them held nothing but raw hatred.

My gaze made Christina flinch, her brow furrowed as she whipped me even harder.

"Seems like you're tired of breathing."

The whip cracked loudly. My skin instantly split open, and the salt water seeped into the wounds. The pain was so intense I nearly passed out.

Blood flowed even faster from my chest wound, and my ribs—never set right to begin with—throbbed dully.

An undecipherable look flickered across her eyes.

"Dylan, don't be stubborn," she said, her tone softening slightly. "If Paige were still alive, she wouldn't want to see you going up against me like this. Just give in, and I'll take you to the hospital right away."

I snapped my head up, glaring at her. "You don't deserve to say Paige's name, Christina Ashmore! You're his accomplice!"

Seven years ago, when Paige saved her, she had dropped to her knees beside Paige's hospital bed, sobbing hard as she swore she'd protect her for the rest of her life.

After Paige's accident, she clutched my hand and cried until she passed out, vowing that she'd make the perpetrator pay with his life.

Before sending me to the psychiatric hospital, she feigned concern and said that once I got better, we would hold a proper funeral for Paige.

Even everything she had today—her status and her achievements—came from Paige and me downing drink after drink at countless social gatherings.

Now, all those memories felt like knives stabbing straight into my heart.

"Dylan, that's enough. Chrissy's just worried that I'll feel wronged. It hasn't been easy for her all these years," Roland said, leaning against the table, a taunting smirk on his face. "Besides, I was the one who picked out Paige's gravesite. The view is gorgeous. You should be grateful."

"Grateful?" I sneered.

The movement pulled at the wound on my chest, causing me to break out in a cold sweat. "My sister was three months pregnant when you ran into her and sent her flying 100 feet into the air. To this day, you haven't shown even a sliver of remorse, and you want me to be grateful?"

"Shut up!" Christina barked, her expression darkening.

She cracked the whip again, even harder than before. "Roland didn't do it on purpose. Stop harping on about it!"

I was in so much pain, I wanted to bash my head against the wall and just end it all. However, the fury blazing in my chest continued to chip away at my sanity, driving me to struggle, to resist, to kill the murderer with my own two hands.

When the bones in my hand were exposed, I finally broke free from the iron chains and lunged at Roland.

"I told you I'd send you to hell!"

My fists rained down hard. Roland cowered, letting out miserable screams.

"Stop!" Christina yelled, shoving me aside and pulling him into her arms. "Have you lost your mind, Dylan?"

Seeing the murderous frenzy I was in, she grabbed a metal bar from the table and smashed it down on my head.

Blood streamed down my forehead, blurring my vision. I staggered and collapsed onto the floor.

Before losing consciousness, I saw Christina wrap her arm around Roland protectively, then leave without another glance back.