Richard was beaten into a curled-up heap on the floor, blood streaming from his nose and the corner of his mouth.

Horrified by the scene, Vivian rushed up and grasped my arm.

"Isaac, stop! I was wrong—I know that now. Please spare Richard!"

The press conference manager snapped out of it and immediately rushed onto the stage, calling for someone to dial 911.

The sight of Arlene's deathly pale face brought me back to my senses. I scooped up her unconscious body and carried her toward the door.

Before leaving, I issued my final ultimatum to them, "Vivian, you and your family had better prepare for bankruptcy liquidation."

Arlene's surgery lasted a full eight hours before she was finally out of danger. She remained in the ICU for recovery. Only after confirming she was okay did the anxiety that had gripped me all day finally begin to ease.

I was about to head back and pack some clothes for Arlene when, just as I left the hospital, I was ambushed by a group of masked assailants and taken to a warehouse on the outskirts of town.

Vivian strode out of the shadows, a knife clutched in her hand. Close behind her came Richard, his face twisted with malice and his arm in a cast.

She came at me like a woman possessed, shrieking hysterically as she pressed a knife against my throat. The blade left a deep, bloody gash.

"Isaac, you lunatic! You actually had someone run Richard over just to keep me by your side? Are you satisfied now that he's crippled for life?"

A car accident? Confusion flickered in my eyes. I shook my head and said, "What are you talking about? If I were going to make a move, do you think I'd leave that scumbag alive?"

"Shut your mouth!" She swung her hand down, and my cheek burned with pain. "Who else but you would use such despicable tactics? Calling the police would be letting you off too easily.

"I want you to kneel and apologize to Richard! Otherwise, do you really think the people you left at the hospital can protect Arlene?"

Vivian's expression was pure venom as she held up her phone, showing me a video of someone pulling out Arlene's oxygen tube.

Arlene was still lying in the ICU because of me, so I'd be damned if I let anyone hurt her again.

"Vivian, if Arlene gets so much as a scratch, I'll make you and Richard pay with your lives!"

Vivian kicked me viciously. "You're in no position to make demands. Every second you make Richard wait for his apology, I'll cut off one of Arlene's fingers."

I gritted my teeth so hard that the veins in my forehead stood out. Dropping to my knees, I turned to the sneering Richard beside me and said, "I was wrong. Please forgive me."

Richard limped toward me, dragging a metal rod. Without a word, he swung it hard against my back.

"So what if you're the richest man in the world? To me, you're just a worthless mongrel!"

"That's right, keep going. Hit him harder." Vivian was off to the side, eagerly recording the whole thing. "Isaac, say 'I'm a bastard, and I deserve this,' and I'll have them stop."

I turned my head and spat out the blood in my mouth. Silently, I fixed my bloodshot eyes on them, like a vengeful spirit clawing its way out of hell.

"A tough guy, huh? Let's see which is harder—your bones or this metal rod of mine!"

Blow after blow landed on my most vulnerable spots. Several times, I heard the sound of bones cracking, the pain so intense it made my scalp tingle. Then, a heavy strike hit the back of my head, and everything went black in an instant.

Just before losing consciousness, I heard Vivian's panicked voice.

"...He seems to have stopped breathing? What do we do?"

"So what if he's dead?" Richard replied indifferently. "He's just a rich businessman, not some big shot who controls the underworld. Who's going to care whether he lives or dies?"

The sound of footsteps gradually faded away, and my vision flickered between black and white. My ears rang with a deafening buzz, and my head felt as if it were splitting apart from the pain.

I fumbled for the watch on my wrist, trying to press the distress signal. But I no longer had the strength.

Just as I was helplessly sensing death closing in from blood loss, a deafening explosion erupted.

Amidst the blazing flames, a man in a black suit strode in. Behind him, squad after squad of bodyguards rushed in with their guns raised.

The man at the front gathered me into his arms, calling my name over and over again.

"Isaac, stay awake! I'm so sorry I'm late."