I rubbed my fingers together, feeling the calluses that had formed from holding a gun so often. Unbidden, the image of Wilson playing the piano popped into my mind again, and I suddenly found all my resentment and hatred pointless.

After I was discharged from the hospital, Sylvia excused herself by saying she had to go on a business trip. She didn't return for an entire month, which was the mandatory cooling-off period before a divorce could be finalized.

…

I didn't expect to run into Wilson.

To pray for my poor younger brother who had died such a tragic death in my past life, I purposely made a trip to the church to ask the priest for a Mass.

Upon entering the church, I spotted Wilson playing the accompaniment for the choir children.

The last chord rang out jarringly, clearly wrong.

I wasn't sure what possessed me to walk forward and press the correct keys.

"This part should be played like this."

This was my first face-to-face meeting with him, and it was a lot calmer than I had thought it would be.

Wilson's eyes immediately lit up. "You play the piano too? Despite practising nonstop, I always make a mistake at this part."

I simply shot him an indifferent smile, yet he began chatting with me like we were already friends.

When he learned that I was here for a deceased loved one, he kneeled before the statue of the Virgin Mary and prayed sincerely, "Oh, Mother Mary, please pray for this pure soul and bring peace to his family, who still lives in pain."

For a moment, I was lost in a stunned daze. He reminded me so much of myself that it was uncanny. A well of pity rose in me, followed by the urge to save my past self. I was sorely tempted to tell him to leave Sylvia, that being close to her would only bring misfortune upon himself.

However, when I thought about the baby Sylvia was currently carrying, I chose to keep my mouth shut.

If Wilson were to learn of my relationship with Sylvia, he would definitely fall apart and break up with her. If that happened, Sylvia would certainly go mad and take revenge on me.

The bloody memories of my past life filled my mind.

I excused myself into the confession booth by saying I needed to repent. Once I was inside, I checked in on Noah using the surveillance camera in his room. Only after seeing that he was safe and sound at the rehabilitation center did I relax.

He was the only family member I had left after our parents passed away. I couldn't drag him into the messy conflict between Sylvia and me this time.

After composing myself, I stepped out of the confessional, only for a gun to press against my forehead.

My entire body immediately tensed before I turned to look for Wilson.

Upon seeing his limp form crumpled on the ground, I swore silently, but before I could do anything else, the butt of a gun smacked into me and knocked me unconscious.

When I next awoke, I discovered that I was in an abandoned warehouse. Our abductors had also tied Wilson and me together.

Wilson was pleading tearfully, "The debt's already been paid long ago! What else do you want? Sylvia warned you—"

A resounding smack cut off his words.

The leader of our abductors, a scar-faced man, yanked Wilson up by the hair. "Sure, we've gotten the money back, but she broke three of our boss' ribs! As members of the underworld, how could we possibly lie down and accept that? You're incredibly precious to her, aren't you? Well, I'm going to have so much fun torturing you today!"

Ah, so they were small-time loan sharks. It was no wonder they failed to recognize me.

Taking a few breaths to prepare myself, I released the tiny blade I had hidden in my ring and began cutting through the ropes. This wasn't my first time being taken, so I had naturally learned from my past experiences.

When the scar-faced man noticed that I was awake, he started rummaging through my Hermès bag.

"Sebastian Chance, huh? Well, Mr. Chance, you sure are unlucky. Tell your family to transfer three million dollars over if they want you back."

"Sir, I'm sorry for getting you involved in this. Don't worry, though. My girlfriend is really amazing and will definitely come rescue us!" Wilson said, his eyes shining with worship, as though Sylvia was his savior.

My hands froze briefly, but I didn't respond to his words.

Suddenly, the scar-faced man cursed before raising his phone and snapping, "Fuck! How dare she not believe me! It seems like I'll have to send her a little present."

Tossing a knife to the ground before Wilson and me, he ordered, "Men, cut off all ten of his fingers and send them to her."

A hint of apprehension flashed in my eyes. If Wilson were to die here that day, Sylvia would definitely rip me to pieces to vent her anger.

Wilson was so terrified that all the blood had drained from his face. He kept squirming backward, pleading, "Please don't do this to me! I still need my hands to play the piano!"

Wilson's white cotton shirt was stained with dirt, and with his nose slightly swollen and red from his crying, he looked so much like a lamb that had wandered into a lion's den. His innocent demeanor only served to excite these madmen, making them want to hurt him even more.

"You know, begging might work on Sylvia Fuller, but not on us."

Just as they were about to drag Wilson away, I managed to cut through my ropes. Immediately, I lunged forward and headbutted the scar-faced man out of the way. Then, I stepped protectively in front of Wilson.

"What the fuck? What the hell are you all doing? Get him!" Hand clamped over his bleeding nose, the leader bellowed at his subordinates, causing them to swarm forward. "Beat the shit out of him! Once he's down, we can take our time playing with him!"

I was completely outnumbered, so I could do nothing but shield Wilson beneath me as best as I could.

"Sir, sir! Stop hitting him! Please, stop hitting him!" Wilson shouted through his tears. He kept trying to shove me away even as he begged them to stop beating me. Despair rolled from him in waves.

At that moment, the steel door was bashed open with a loud bang by an SUV crashing right through it. Gunfire instantly followed, drawing everyone's attention toward the doorway.

Sylvia rushed toward Wilson and swept him into a tight hug. "Thank goodness, you're alright."

The sudden relief at being saved had Wilson fainting from the shock.

Sylvia carried him to the ambulance before helping him straighten his disheveled clothes, her every movement screaming gentleness.

I slowly climbed to my feet, only to meet Sylvia's dark gaze the instant I raised my head. My heart sank.

"Sebastian Chance." Her voice was soft, yet it still froze all the blood in my veins. "Why were you with him?"

Swallowing the blood rising in my throat, I forced my lips into a smile. "Would you believe me if I said it was a coincidence?"

A hard slap was her answer. The blow sent me straight back to the ground.

"Since when were you a religious person?"

I spat out a mouthful of blood, but ultimately, I didn't tell her the truth about how the Mass was supposed to be for Noah.

She stepped on my fingers and ground her heel down. The intense agony caused me to scream.

"When did you start scheming this?" she barked.

"I didn't!"

Spinning around, Sylvia shot the scar-faced man in the leg before aiming her gun at his head. "Did he scheme this?"

The scar-faced man howled in pain, then raised a shaking finger to point at me. "I-It was him! Mr. Chance sought me out first, saying he would pay me to do this so that he could take revenge on Wilson Hink."

"That's bullshit!" I interrupted loudly. However, Sylvia's men pressed me back to the ground, their hands firm on my shoulders.

Sylvia let out a light laugh before putting a bullet in the scar-faced man's head.

"Sebastian." Kneeling down to seize my hand in a vice grip, she said, "You harmed someone precious to me, so you have to pay an equivalent price in return."

With a cracking sound, she broke my pointer finger.

I hollered in pain, my vision going spotty as my body convulsed.

"Sylvia! How could you do this to me? I'm your husband!"

She stood and straightened herself. She flatly commanded, "Break his remaining fingers."

With that, I was roughly pinned to an oil drum while my hands were yanked to the sides and spread out.

"Sylvia Fuller!" I bellowed hysterically, "I hate you! I shouldn't have saved you ten years ago!"

Sylvia, who had turned to leave, paused. Nonetheless, it didn't last long, and she didn't look back as she strode off.

As agony overwhelmed me, I recalled the first time I played the piano for her.

At the time, she had leaned against the piano while gazing at me. Reaching out to take my hand, she had uttered oh-so-gently, "Sebby, I really love you like this."

Ten years ago, I stepped into the depths of hell because of my decision to save her.

Ten years later, she cut the last link tying me to her with her own hands.

…

At three in the morning, I was crumpled on the floor of the abandoned warehouse, my fingers bent and twisted into horrifying angles, when several of my men came rushing in with medical equipment.

As the building went up in a blaze of flames behind me, I leaned back in my seat and called my contact.

"Have the boat waiting at the harbor, and give me a new identity. I want the name Sebastian Chance to thoroughly disappear from this world."