In the endless night, the faint scent of fresh blood hung in the air.
"Ugh…"
The woman's weak moan echoed in a room of nearly ten people. It was so silent that one could hear her breathing—shallow and desperately thin.
Derrick raised his eyes, inhaling the dark, tyrannical energy swirling in his chest. A faint, cold smile curled his lips as he handed the blood-stained knife to his subordinate.
"Boring. Weak as a chicken," he spat.
The subordinate stepped forward to take the weapon, careful not to look directly at the woman their boss had dismissed. Her entire body was a blur of mangled flesh and blood.
The dying Elena lowered her eyes, looking at her own severed fingers scattered on the ground; her heart had already ached past the point of numbness.
"Please... I..."
She knew there was no escaping death this time. She had once imagined dying by Quentin's knife—a peaceful end compared to falling into Derrick's hands. She had been forced to watch as he cut through every knuckle, feeling the cold steel slide across her skin and hearing the steady drip of her life force pouring onto the floor.
She didn't know what drug Derrick had injected her with. Although her breath was as thin as silk, her mind remained strangely, cruelly alert. The sensation made her crave the release of death, yet kept her tethered to the pain.
"So, when you pulled that knife out of my brother, why didn't you feel any remorse?" Derrick smirked, taking a clean towel from his subordinate to wipe the blood from his hands.
A single tear escaped Elena's lashes. Her trembling lips moved as she whispered, "I didn't mean it. I was wrong. I regret it."
She had been blinded by hatred, intending to kill Amanda, never expecting Jasper to block the blade. Now, the weight of her choices crushed her. If she hadn't tried to kill Amanda, if she hadn't trapped Diego Solis, if she hadn't foolishly fallen for a bastard like Javier... perhaps her outcome would be different.
Elena closed her eyes in agony. Suddenly, a memory of a schoolyard summer surfaced: a strong wind blowing her hair, sending her silk hair tie flying. A handsome boy with a gentle smile had caught it. He walked toward her, handed it back, and smiled.
"Your hair is really beautiful."
At seventeen, Elena had naively fallen in love with that smile, only to spend the next five years of her youth being mercilessly ruined.
Derrick watched her silently shed tears. His initial rage had cooled, replaced by a dull boredom. He didn't want to play anymore. He drew the gun from his waist and aimed it directly at her heart.
Hearing the mechanical click of the hammer, Elena opened her eyes. They were unexpectedly clear. She lifted her lips in one last smile and whispered:
"Javier's inside man is..."
She breathed the name. Derrick raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. He didn't pull the trigger yet. "Why are you telling me?"
"A debt is a debt," Elena replied weakly.
Javier owed her five years of youth and five years of sincere love. It was time for him to pay.
Derrick nodded, finding the logic sound. "What a woman's heart! Go on ahead then; I'll be sure to send him to join you soon."
Elena smiled contentedly and closed her eyes.
Bang!
The gunshot echoed through the night just as the first rays of dawn appeared. A new day had begun, but a life was gone forever.
Derrick holstered his gun and leisurely walked out of the basement. A tall figure stood outside the door, surrounded by discarded cigarette butts.
"Hear everything?" Derrick asked with a smirk.
Quentin crushed his half-smoked cigarette under the toe of his shoe. He turned around, his expression icy. "Yes."
Derrick lit a fresh cigarette, taking a long drag. "Your nephew isn't exactly average, is he?"
Quentin lowered his eyes in contemplation. "It's time to act," he said softly.
Through the hazy layer of smoke, Derrick's eyes flashed.
Amanda had spent a restless night, mentally exhausted. Upon hearing that Jasper had woken up, she and Winter rushed to the hospital. When they arrived, they found Quentin and Derrick already in the room.
Jasper lay on the bed, his face pale, his eyes stubbornly glaring at Derrick. Derrick looked so frustrated his hair practically stood on end; he looked like he wanted to kick his younger brother. Quentin, meanwhile, sat on the sofa like a detached observer, watching the brothers square off.
Amanda hesitated at the door, unsure whether to enter. Winter, following behind with a heavy bag under her arm, nearly collided with her. In the shuffle, Winter's phone slipped and hit the floor with a loud thud.
The noise broke the tension in the room. All three men turned to look.
Quentin stood up immediately. He took the bags from Amanda's hands and pulled her toward him. "Why are you here so early? You should have slept longer."
Amanda glanced at the Kent brothers. "I brought breakfast for everyone. Jasper must be hungry; I brought porridge."
As Amanda began setting out the food to feed Jasper, Quentin's brow furrowed. He pulled her hand back. "He was stabbed in the stomach, but his arms aren't broken. Let him feed himself."
Jasper snapped his eyes open to glare at Quentin. "Can you maybe dial back the bad karma?" Between his brother's cursing and Quentin's mockery, Jasper felt like he might faint all over again.
Quentin ignored him, pushing the porridge aside and grabbing a dumpling. He tore off a piece and fed it to Amanda. "This dumpling is delicious."
Winter, sensing the awkwardness, quickly grabbed the porridge. "I'll do it. You two go eat."
Under the table, Quentin firmly caught Amanda's leg with his own, silently commanding her to stay put. She had no choice but to let Winter go. Annoyed, she stuffed a large dumpling into Quentin's mouth.
"Eat it if it's so good, you big jar of vinegar!"
Quentin simply smiled and chewed, pleased with himself.
Before Winter could sit down, however, the bowl was snatched away. Derrick pushed her aside with a look of disgust. "Go eat. I'll feed my brother."
Winter blankly gave up her seat. Derrick sat down roughly, gave the porridge a half-hearted blow to cool it, and shoved the spoon toward Jasper's mouth.
"Eat up. You'll need the strength if you're going to keep putting yourself in harm's way."
"Are you even my brother?" Jasper choked out, more irritated by the service than the injury.