Chapter 7

The day after Julius signed his name, he didn't come to the hospital again.

Anastasia felt nothing but relief. The silence was almost a luxury. She handled her discharge papers alone, packed her things, and finalized the divorce documents with her lawyer.

By afternoon, she was ready to drive to the rehabilitation hospital and take her brother away from the capital.

Just as she slid behind the wheel, her phone rang sharply.

"Miss Rios! Please—please save Young Master Rios! Mr. Perkins's men took him—he's been kidnapped!"

The nurse's trembling, tear-choked voice shattered her composure. A cold weight slammed into her chest.

She didn't waste time asking questions. Panic surged through her veins as she opened her tracking app—the necklace she'd secretly placed on her brother after surgery was still transmitting a signal.

Following the blinking red dot, she sped through traffic until the road ended at a coastal cliff.

There—

Her brother, Matteo, hung suspended over the raging sea, wrists bound, body covered in blood. His hospital gown was soaked crimson, and the rope holding him looked frayed—one wrong move and he would plummet straight into the foaming waves below.

From a black van parked nearby, Irene reclined lazily against Julius's shoulder, her tone almost playful as she ordered the bodyguards to smear Matteo's wounds with foul-smelling fish bait.

Anastasia's world went white.

She bolted forward, reaching for the whip lashing across her brother's back—only to be kicked sharply in the knee.

She fell hard. Her kneecaps split open against the jagged rocks, blood pooling beneath her as two guards pinned her down.

"Julius!" Her throat burned, her voice raw from half-healed wounds. "Wasn't it enough that he already lost his leg because of you? What has he done to deserve this? He's innocent!"

"Come at me if you must! Leave him out of it!"

Her words were ragged, desperate—each breath sharp with pain and blood.

Julius adjusted the coat around Irene's shoulders, his face expressionless, his eyes glacial. He didn't even look at Anastasia.

"Your brother didn't do anything," he said coldly. "But every wound on him is your doing."

Anastasia froze.

He stepped out of the car, a cruel smile curving his lips. "Is your brother innocent?"

He hooked the tip of his leather shoe under Anastasia's chin and lifted it. "When you secretly trained Rottweiler to knock Irene down and nearly cause her to miscarry, did you think her child was innocent?"

At those words, Irene threw herself into a show of grief, sobbing that she had been wronged.

The moment he heard her sob, Julius's eyes hardened into ice. With a flick of his chin, he ordered his men to loosen the rope.

"Wait—no!"

Anastasia's heart seized. "I was unconscious these past few days! How could I have been anywhere near her dog?" she cried, voice breaking.

"We've been together for eight years, Julius. Don't you know me well enough to see that I'd never stoop so low as to harm someone behind their back?"

Her voice trembled, desperate yet defiant.

Matteo's body suddenly jerked to a halt, dangling barely half a meter above the crashing waves. The piranhas that had been circling below vanished, leaving only broken bones floating on the foamy surface.

Julius's brows furrowed. For a fleeting half-second, hesitation flickered in his cold gaze—then Irene let out a sob, slipping off her coat as if to throw herself from the cliff.

"I'm with Julius every day," she cried pitifully. "Why would I train my own dog to attack me and make myself lose my child? If Julius truly doubts me... then I'd rather die to prove my innocence!"

Julius caught her just in time, his arm tightening around her trembling form. In that instant, every shred of doubt in his heart vanished. His eyes turned icy, filled with nothing but disdain as they fell on Anastasia.

"Whether you hurt Irene or not—you know the answer in your heart. But today, I'll cure your habit of lying and running from responsibility."

His voice was low and sharp, like the edge of a knife. "If you can't earn Irene's forgiveness by the count of three... then your brother's life will pay the price."

Julius pulled out a remote control, pressing the button without mercy. The rope creaked and began to unravel rapidly.

"Three."

Matteo's body plunged lower—only half a meter from the water now. The stench of blood and fish guts drove the piranhas into a frenzy; one leapt up, tearing a toe clean off.

Anastasia's rigid spine finally broke. She fell forward, crawling on bloodied knees until she reached Julius's boots. Her voice cracked, hoarse with pain and desperation.

"Please—please spare my brother! Do whatever you want to me. I'll take any punishment... just don't hurt him!"

He pressed another button on the remote.

"Two."