"He didn't expose their scheme. He had a terminal illness, and he wanted to trade his life for some security for mine."

"But I investigated you in secret, and that's when I realized what a good person you truly are. I couldn't live off blood money like that. So I chose to drop out on my own—it was never your fault."

Kathleen's face twisted with rage. She lunged forward and locked both hands around Carina's throat.

"You little bitch, I'll strangle you!"

Her fingers dug in. Carina's face turned purple as she thrashed on the ground.

Cyril clutched his wounded leg and staggered upright, snatching a wooden stick from the floor.

"You think you're clever? You think you can play me?" He swung the stick down hard on Carina's thigh. "I'll make you wish you were dead!"

Carina let out a muffled groan as she hit the ground—but seized the moment. Her hand shot out, gripping the handle of the knife still buried in Cyril's leg, and wrenched it sideways.

"Honey!"

"Boss!"

Cyril screamed and crumpled to the floor.

Kathleen and the thugs pinning me down rushed over to check on him.

I crouched beside Carina and gathered her upper body into my arms. I didn't know what to feel.

She lay against my chest, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"I'm sorry... Francis. In the end, I still couldn't finish him off for you."

"You need to go. Now. They won't let you walk out of here."

"Go?" Cyril's voice rose behind us, unhinged and seething. "Where exactly do you think you're going? My leg is practically shattered—you think I'm letting either of you leave?!"

He hauled himself up, his expression dark and deranged.

The thugs closed in from every direction, forming a tight ring around us.

I narrowed my eyes. "Cyril. What are you doing?"

A vicious grin split his face. "What am I doing? Sending you right back to prison."

He jerked his chin at the men. "Strip her. Every last stitch. Francis here got a little too excited—tried to rape and murder her."

The thugs' gazes crawled over Carina without shame. She flinched, shrinking against me, but forced the words out through clenched teeth.

"Cyril. I'm the one who stabbed you. Let Francis go. Whatever you want to do to me—I won't fight back."

Cyril's hand whipped across her face. Blood welled at the corner of her lip.

"You're not going anywhere. And this worthless piece of trash isn't either."

The thugs seized my limbs and shoved me down in front of Carina.

I fought against them, every muscle straining, but it was useless. "Cyril! Kathleen! This is a crime! Does the law mean nothing to you?!"

Cyril let out a derisive laugh. "The law? The law is where poor men like you go begging for evidence. I'm the one who controls the evidence."

They'd torn away nearly all of Carina's clothes when I thrashed harder—and they beat me for it.

Then my phone rang. The sound came from my pocket, shrill and sudden.

Cyril snatched it before I could blink, dangling it in front of my face.

"Calling the police?"

He leaned in, teeth bared. "You're so naive, Francis. When the cops see the scene I'm about to arrange, it'll play out exactly like it did three years ago—Francis Gilbert, attacking in a fit of rage."

"And even if you appeal, even if you beg for help, it won't matter. Every lawyer in this city gives me face. You're a dead man walking."

He answered the call with a smirk and hit speaker.

"Officer, this is Attorney Jennings from Elite Law Firm. I'm reporting a crime—a rape and murder at my residence. The perpetrator's name is Francis Gilbert."

Silence.

The line stayed dead.

A full thirty seconds passed before a voice came through—low, commanding, heavy with authority.