“You hit him?” Olivia screamed first. “Oh my God, you’re a psycho! How dare you slap Mr. Hargrave?”

Lochlan’s head had snapped sideways from the blow. A red handprint bloomed across his cheek. He slowly turned back toward me, rage radiating off him like wildfire.

He seized my wrist in a crushing grip. “You think you can lay hands on me?”

Then he turned to the security guards and barked, voice like poisoned steel, “What are you waiting for? Blind her.”

The pain in my wrist was excruciating and with the injuries to my head and eye, the whole world spun around me. In the scuffle, my encrypted phone—my lifeline—slipped from my grasp and clattered to the floor.

Olivia spotted it.

She raised her stiletto heel and smashed it down.

As she ground her foot into the device, she looked at me with a mocking smile. “Oops. Wasn’t this your emergency phone? Weren’t you trying to call in your backup?”

“What now? Still want to act tough?”

My heart dropped.

That phone held sensitive data—contacts, encrypted networks, access to critical medical systems. National secrets. Strategic resources.

She had no idea what she was stepping on.

Fueled by sheer panic, I yanked myself from Lochlan’s grip and threw myself forward, shielding the broken phone with my body.

Olivia just laughed, then kicked me hard in the back. “Look at her. Clawing for scraps like a mutt. Disgusting.”

“She’s definitely not fit to marry into the Hargrave Family.”

Lochlan looked down at me in revulsion and kicked me again, this time square in the shoulder.

“If it weren’t for my grandfather’s lapse in judgment, I’d never even consider someone like you.”

“Look at yourself. You think you deserve the Hargrave name?”

He turned to Olivia, tone suddenly sweet. “Don’t worry. I won’t let someone like her get close to you again.”

Blood ran down my arm as I hugged the remains of my phone. I raised my head, eyes blazing through the pain. “Lochlan, if you so much as lay a finger on my eyes, I swear—you’ll regret it.”

He laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d heard all day. He bent down and whispered just for me, “Regret? That word doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. You think you matter? If I want you gone from Ardelis, you’ll disappear.”

Then he stomped on my wrist again, preventing me from reaching for my broken glasses. “Let’s start with your eyes.”

I screamed as pain exploded through me. Blood from my head and eye blurred my world. Olivia giggled beside him, resting her arm in his.

“She really thought she had power. Look at her now—what a joke.”

As the guards closed in, I summoned the last of my strength. My fingers, trembling, found the emergency switch on the side of my ruined phone.

I pressed it.

The call connected instantly.

My father’s voice came through, urgent and steady. “Ingrid, is everything okay? I saw your location’s been stuck at a hospital. I’ve called three times. None went through. What’s happening?”

I choked on my tears, my voice a broken whisper. “Dad… my eyes…it hurts so bad…”

“What?!” His calm shattered, replaced with unfiltered rage. “That eye is a national asset. It’s meant to save lives, to pioneer breakthroughs! Who hurt you?! Which hospital?! I’m on my way with a team!”

Lochlan heard his voice. He froze.

Then he laughed. “National treasure? You think this is a TV drama?”

He grabbed the phone from me and screamed into the receiver, “You’re her father? Good. If you really think you’ve got any authority, come and prove it. I’m at St. Armand’s. Ardelis branch.”

His voice dropped to a cold, razor-sharp growl.

“Let’s see whose security team walks out standing—yours or mine. But just a heads-up… if you do show up, I’ll make sure you don’t leave in one piece.”

And with that, he smashed the phone to the ground and crushed it beneath his heel until it was nothing but fragments.

“You like calling for backup, huh?” Lochlan sneered, his tone mocking. “Then I guess I’m not going anywhere today.”

He turned, speaking loud and clear for the terrified hospital staff huddled nearby.

“Now, the whole city will see—no one challenges Lochlan Hargrave and walks away.”

Olivia clapped beside him like he was a hero. “Bravo, Mr. Hargrave!” she chirped. Then she turned her scorn on me, smug and venomous.

“Look at her now. Some mutt thinking she mattered. Pathetic.”

My vision blurred, the darkness swallowing up the edges of the room. My body gave out completely. Blood trickled from the gash on the back of my head and poured from my injured eye, pooling beneath me in deep red streams.

I forced myself to lift my head one last time, my hand trembling as I reached out toward the cluster of nurses frozen by the wall. My voice was faint. Barely a breath.

“Please… help me… stop the bleeding…”

But the so-called angels in white stood rooted in place, eyes wide and terrified. None of them dared to move. Not under Lochlan’s cold, murderous gaze.

The nurses exchanged nervous glances. A few had started to move toward me, but Lochlan’s voice sliced through the air like ice.

“Anyone who touches her is declaring war on the Hargraves.”

He paused, his eyes like knives. “If you don’t care about your career in Ardelis—go ahead. Try me.”

He wrapped his arm around Olivia and didn’t even spare me a glance. Instead, he barked an order at a trembling Mr. Boatman.

“Get the top specialists in this hospital. All of them. I want a full medical examination done on Miss Charles immediately.”

“No mistakes. No delays. She doesn’t get so much as a paper cut.”

Olivia strutted over like a cat about to play with a dying mouse. She crouched in front of me, her blood-red nails digging into the wound on my cheek.

“Well, well, Ingrid. Bleeding out on the floor like the trash you are.”

She grinned. “You really thought someone would save you?”

As if her cruelty needed more theater, she turned dramatically, her voice syrupy and fake.

“Mr. Hargrave,” she purred, “I’ve always thought doctors look so elegant in their white coats. So dignified.”

She pointed at my injured eye, smeared with blood and still leaking tears.

“She said her eye is ‘precious.’ Well then—why don’t I practice my surgical technique with it? Let’s see what it takes to slice a double eyelid.”

My blood ran cold.

She—this clueless fool who probably couldn’t name a single sterile technique—wanted to use my eye as a training dummy?

This wasn’t just any eye. It was the cornerstone of a surgical future. A tool developed through years of training and national investment. A symbol of hope.

And Lochlan?

He didn’t even flinch. If anything, he chuckled and gave her a playful tap on the nose.

“You little devil.”

Before I could react, Lochlan gave a single wave of his hand—and his guards moved in.

They pinned me to the cold gurney, locking down my wrists and ankles. I struggled with everything I had, but I was too weak—blood loss had drained every ounce of fight from my limbs.

Lochlan looked down at me like I was something he’d scrape off his shoe.

“Olivia’s offering to personally operate. You should be honored, Ingrid. Don’t be ungrateful.”

Buzzing with excitement, Olivia dashed into Mr. Boatman’s office. Moments later, she emerged wearing an oversized white coat, clearly stolen. Lochlan's gaze followed her like she was the queen of the universe.

She plucked a surgical scalpel from a nearby crash cart—still stained with blood—and waved it in front of my face.

“It’s just a couple of cuts. How hard could it be?” she said sweetly.

The blade caught the light, glinting red with someone else’s dried blood. It made my stomach turn.

“Mr. Hargrave,” she giggled, “What if I mess up and blind her? I’ve never done this before.”

Lochlan didn’t even blink. “Then she goes blind. I’ll pay her a million in compensation.”

“A million?!” I snapped, rage finally breaking through my fear. “You think you can buy this eye just with one million? It’s a national treasure!”

His hand came down hard across my face, snapping my head sideways.

“Finally showing your true colors, huh?” he sneered. “One second it’s a ‘national treasure,’ the next it’s about money. So how much do you want?”

“One million not enough? Fine. Ten million, then.”

He leaned in, his voice like poison.

“In Ardelis, there’s nothing I, Lochlan Hargrave, can’t afford.”

“Pin her to the surgical table,” Olivia ordered smugly. “And gag her. I don’t want her screaming and messing up my concentration.”

They stuffed a cloth into my mouth and strapped me down so tightly I could barely breathe. Cold steel pressed against my spine.

Olivia leaned in, her smile morphing into something monstrous.

She gripped my head and plunged the bloodied scalpel toward the corner of my injured eye.

The pain was blinding.

I screamed into the cloth, head slamming against the metal bedframe, but she just laughed—giddy, deranged.

“What’s wrong?” she cooed. “Can’t scream anymore? Oh wait, right. We gagged you.”

I jerked my head, forcing the cloth out of my mouth and screamed hoarsely, “Stop! That blade isn’t sterile! You’ll cause sepsis! You’re committing assault! This is attempted murder!”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed, dragging the scalpel across my other eye, just to leave a bloody trail. “You should be grateful. Not everyone gets a makeover by me, Hargrave Global’s own secretary.”

“Don’t like it? Tough luck.”

I was slipping—my vision swimming in darkness, the pain overwhelming everything.

Lochlan groaned nearby, impatient. “Enough already. It’s just a couple of cuts. Don’t act like you’re in the torture chamber.” He leaned in close again, voice full of disdain.

“Take the ten million. That’s more than a peasant like you could spend in a lifetime.”

I watched Olivia lift the scalpel again.

I had nothing left—no strength, no defense.

But I still had my mind.

I forced a smile. Soft. Weak. But deliberate.

“Lochlan,” I said slowly. “Have you ever wondered… what would happen if Hargrave Global vanished from Ardelis—by tomorrow morning?”

He looked amused.

He leaned in, sneering. “Still dreaming, even at death’s door?”

He bent down to grab the cloth again.

“I’ll tell you this—Ingrid, even God himself couldn’t save you today.”

He never finished the sentence.

Because right then, the double doors at the end of the hallway opened—silent, but absolute.

And my father walked in.

Behind him, a full medical extraction team moved in like shadows—swift, surgical and ice-cold.

Lochlan’s brow furrowed. “Another one? Jesus, Ingrid, how many poor relatives do you have? Maybe I’ll just—”

He never got to finish.

My father didn’t even look at him. He crossed the distance between us and stopped at my side. When he saw my blood-soaked face and how tightly I was restrained, a storm ignited in his eyes—but his voice was like frozen steel.

Without a word, he took off his coat and laid it gently over my body.

He nodded once at the head of the medical team.

They moved in immediately. Their hands were calm, practiced—already lifting me onto a mobile bed, already wheeling me away from the chaos and the blood and the horror.

Not once did my father glance at Lochlan again.

Lochlan and Olivia stood frozen, watching us leave in silence. Then, almost childishly, Lochlan shouted after us:

“Run all you want! You think this is over? I promise—you won’t get far!”

We didn’t respond. We didn’t look back.

The black car waited at the curb. The doors closed. The chaos of the hospital disappeared behind us.

My father took out his phone. Dialed a number.