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.”

Aveline’s face darkened as she lunged toward the pond to pull Laurent out.

But before his hand could reach hers, the brick in my grip slammed into his wrist. He yelped in pain, splashing back into the water.

Her teeth clenched, eyes blazing.

“Gideon, must you really force me to fight you?”

I smirked.

“Fight? Your little lover will be bones before we finish a round. If he wants to climb ashore, he brings the beads up with him. You know me—I never bluff.”

The piranhas circled closer. Laurent’s shrill cry broke the night.

“Aveline! I’m scared! I don’t want to be torn apart!”

The next second, Aveline leapt into the pond. Blood streamed from her wounds, drawing the fish to her as she shielded him.

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispered, voice trembling with tenderness. “I’ll always protect you.”

That look on her face—concern, devotion—dragged me back to another night.

Outnumbered, iron rods swinging, it had been just the two of us. She had clutched me to her chest, taking every blow herself.

“Gideon, don’t be afraid. I’ll always protect you.”

But that was then.

Now she surfaced, dragging him with her, legs torn raw, the beads clutched in her hand. She threw them at my feet.

“Are you satisfied? Touch him again, and I’ll fight you to the death.”

She had said it once before—when it was me she wanted to bind herself to. Two madmen, she claimed, destined to love and hate until death.

Now she said the same words—for him.

I bent down, scooped up the beads, and sneered at Laurent’s unconscious form.

“Aveline, how stupid. To protect trash like this in front of me.”

At the gate, I gave one final glance at the villa that had once held our brief happiness. Then I ordered my men, “Blow it up. Make it a doghouse. Dogs should live where they belong.”

She never came back.

She spent her days nursing Laurent and mourning their stillborn child. He was given a funeral so lavish the cremation lasted seven days.

Alone, I bought a quiet plot of land, good consecration, and buried the beads there—my child’s only grave.

The day after the funeral, my phone rang. An unknown number. I answered, and Laurent’s laughter poured through the line.

“So what if you blew up the villa? Aveline gave me something better.”

His voice dripped with triumph.

“Why do you think she honored my baby, but loathed yours? Because she thinks you’re filthy. See for yourself.”

An email arrived.

The moment I opened it, my chest tightened.