“How much blood do you need to spill before the bastard in your belly dies?”

Aveline’s black eyes locked on mine—flat, unreadable.

A crisp clang broke the tension as the knife slipped from her hand. Then she smiled and turned—not at me, but at the subordinate with a gun aimed my way.

“How dare you point a weapon at my husband? Put it down.”

The man froze, then obeyed.

Aveline’s gaze lingered on the wound I had carved into her arm, almost to the bone. She admired it like a jewel before lifting her eyes to me.

“Have you vented enough?” Her voice was calm, almost tender. “Gideon, we’re husband and wife. I’ll forgive you this time. But the next time you lose control—make sure you know who you’re aiming at.”

I pressed out my cigarette on her shoulder.

“Take your dog and your bastard and get out.”

She helped Laurent to his feet, her eyes still fixed on my neck. The blade had left a red line across it. For a moment, I thought she might let go—rob me of the pleasure of carving her deeper.

She reached for me. I sidestepped.

“Careful. Filthy diseases spread through blood. Don’t contaminate me.”

She ignored the insult. Supporting Laurent, she kicked over our anniversary cake, grinding the figurines into paste. Without looking back, she walked out.

At the door, she paused only long enough to tell the housekeeper:

“Apply medicine to the master’s neck. Don’t let him touch water, or it could infect.”

The door shut. Then came Laurent’s panicked cry:

“Aveline—you’re bleeding! Our child!”

I looked at the iron rod lying abandoned on the floor. She hadn’t done it herself. That was the end of us.

That night, the headlines told of Aveline chartering helicopters and calling in specialists from across the country—to save another man. The footage showed her eyes shining with devotion. Even after miscarrying, she refused to sleep, guarding Laurent as if he were made of glass.

The housekeeper scrubbed at the blood and cream on the carpet, her lips tight with anger.

“Mr. Gideon, this is too much. You’ve given her everything. You even stayed up all night to make this cake, and she ruined it for him…”

The red wine, frosting, and blood smeared together into a foul slurry.

“It’s fine,” I said evenly. “Trash belongs in the trash.”

The doorbell rang. A courier handed me a package: a bouquet of lace panties, stained. His expression twisted with disgust as he showed me his phone. The sender demanded a video confirmation.

Onscreen, Laurent grinned.

“Do you like my gift? Lonely on your anniversary, huh? Don’t say I’m heartless—I even shared Aveline’s touch with you. Don’t be shy. I’ve got plenty more.”

He flashed photos of their intimacy, savoring every second.

“Thanks to you, Aveline feels even guiltier about me. She swore our child’s death won’t go unavenged. You’ll pay. She calls me her angel, Gideon. You? You’re just a mad dog bound for hell.”

I laughed softly.

“Angel? Pity. Because an angel who only knows how to spread his legs isn’t worthy to be the head of the our family.”

Aveline promised she would make me pay. She wasn’t bluffing.

A few days later, I put on my favorite suit, styled my hair, and headed to the airport—ready to greet the woman I still called beloved.

My bodyguard called, his voice shaking.

“Mr. Thornwell… your rosary beads were taken by Mr. Gideon’s people. They said it was a discharge gift for Laurent. We tried to stop them, but they beat us.”

I tracked them down to the villa on the outskirts of Texas.

Once, it was a wedding gift from Aveline to me. Now it had become their love nest.

The décor was redone to Laurent’s taste—trees in the yard trimmed into the shape of two people kissing.

When I arrived, they were grilling in the garden, feeding each other mouth-to-mouth like love-struck children.

Laurent spotted me and grinned, slipping his arm through Aveline’s.

“Brother, you came. Did you finally realize Aveline loves me more? That her neglect drove you to apologize? Or…” He raised his wrist, showing off the beads.

“…are you here for these? I heard you spent a billion on them. Precious, huh? Aveline gave them to me because I’ve been having nightmares. She said they’d calm me. Just like this villa—also compensation from her.”

Aveline pinched his nose indulgently.

“Gideon, control your dogs. If they touch Laurent again, I’ll cut off their paws and feed them to the strays. As for the beads and the villa—take it as your apology. Don’t lose your head.”

I laughed. The sound was hollow, dangerous.

So this was the same woman who once pushed me into madness, who thrilled at every outburst, who delivered my enemies to me for torture.

And now she recoiled from the very madness she once adored?

I pulled a folder from my bag and hurled it in her face.

“Aveline, look carefully.”

Her expression barely flickered.

“Those aren’t beads. That’s our dead child.”

The words hit the yard like thunder.

I remembered the night like poison.

She was kidnapped, and I stormed the enemy base to save her. That’s when I discovered where my son had been taken.

On the surveillance feed, I watched as they strung his tiny two-month-old body into prayer beads. While I faltered, blades pierced me dozens of times, stealing my ability to father another child.

I slit my captor’s throat, faked my death, but the beads were already gone.

Aveline stared at the documents, silent. Then she turned to Laurent.

“Laurent, I’ll find you better beads. This one—”

“I won’t!” His voice cracked, desperate. “The seller said the child’s birth hour gave him a Oracle’s blessing. Beads like these calm the mind, strengthen the body. Nothing else compares.”

His eyes filled with tears as he clutched Aveline’s hand.

“Didn’t you say you’d make it up to me for that night? That you’d compensate me? Then give me this. The doctor said I might never have children again. Only these beads can heal me. Aveline, I want the fruit of our love.”

Tears slid down his face, pitiful, shameless.

And Aveline… chose him.

She leveled me with a cold gaze.

“The child has been dead for years. What use is it to bury beads in the dirt? Better Laurent have them than waste them.”

“Aveline,” I roared, “that was your child too! Do you know how many years I bled to track them down, just to give him a grave? My enemy mocked me to his deathbed, never revealing who bought them.”

She only rubbed her temples, impatient, as if my grief was nothing but noise.

“What’s the point of clinging to a corpse?” Aveline’s tone was light, almost mocking. “If you want a child, wait until Laurent and I have one. I’ll let it call you godfather.”

Her gaze hardened.

“I’m the mother. I decide where the beads go. Laurent’s injuries and nightmares are all your fault. If your child’s remains can atone for your sins, that’s merit earned.”

Laurent stifled a laugh behind his hand.

“She’s right, brother. Your child can wipe away your sins—help you, even. Better it died young. With a father like you, it would’ve ended up miserable anyway. Now it can soothe me, strengthen me. Maybe the King of Hell will be so pleased, he’ll fast-track its reincarnation. Perhaps next time it’ll be reborn as a dog…”

His words detonated inside me, splintering bone and soul.

I kicked him to the ground, seized the red-hot tongs, and drove them toward his groin.

“No need to strengthen your body now. I’ll castrate you myself. Or maybe—” I pressed the tips closer, “—I should pierce your skull. That way, no more nightmares.”

“Give me the beads, or die!”

“Gideon, stop!”

Aveline’s hand clamped my wrist, her strength crushing.

“Laurent is right. If you hadn’t committed so many sins, the child wouldn’t have died like that. Why keep fighting?!”

I froze. Disbelief curdled into rage.

In this life, I had only failed two people:

My mother.

And my child.

For countless nights, guilt suffocated me. But of all the mouths in the world, hers had no right to blame me.

If she hadn’t ignored my warnings, if she hadn’t underestimated the enemy—she wouldn’t have been captured.

I wouldn’t have sacrificed my son. I wouldn’t have lost my future as a father.

I remembered her then, cradling my bloodied body, begging the doctors to save me. I remembered her kneeling, tearing her knees raw, crying to the heavens:

“I’ll give the rest of my life for Gideon. From now on, I’ll live only for him.”

I lowered my head, laughing softly, shoulders shaking. Then I let the fire tongs fall with a clang.

Relief flickered in Aveline’s eyes.

“Gideon, you—”

Her words ended in a shriek. One of her ears hit the ground with a wet slap.

I wiped the knife across my cheek, smearing away the blood.

“Filthy.”

Then I smiled.

“Aveline, are you going deaf with age? I told you to beat him to death—you pretended not to hear. I told you to give me the beads—you ignored me again. Since your ears are useless…” I gestured to the severed ear. “Forget it.”

“Aveline!”

“You’re insane!” she spat. “You want the beads? Fine—get them yourself!”

Laurent howled, hurling the rosary beads into the pond. Clever—if he couldn’t keep them, he’d destroy them.

But I was no longer a man of flesh. Aveline had forged me into steel.

I grabbed Laurent by the hair, dragged him to the pond, and kicked him in.

“It’s winter, you’ll freeze him to death!” Aveline rushed forward, panicked.

“Freeze?” I chuckled. “No need. I forgot to mention—this pond has been home to piranhas for years. He’ll be stripped to the bone before the cold even reaches him.”