Chapter 105

The Blackwood ancestral hall held generations of family altars. Kneeling there was the harshest punishment the Blackwoods could inflict.

Ethan remained silent. His back bore fresh lash marks as he knelt on the cold marble, facing the rows of ancestral tablets.

"Have someone watch him." Alfred Blackwood's voice was steel. "Let’s see how long he lasts without food or water for three days."

Winston hesitated, eyeing Ethan’s bleeding wounds. "Sir, the whipping was severe. He won’t survive three days like this."

Alfred didn’t glance back. "He accepted his punishment. This was his mistake to bear."

"But—Mrs. Lockhart admitted she filed for divorce. She’s moved on. How is this his fault?"

"I don’t care!" Alfred’s tone was icy, his double standards glaring. "Vivian wouldn’t have left without reason. He must have failed her. Let him reflect."

"Cheating and impregnating another woman is unforgivable!"

Winston knew arguing was futile. If Ethan’s parents got involved, it would only escalate.

There was only one person who could intervene now—the former Mrs. Lockhart.

Dinner was unnervingly calm.

"Vivian, try the fish. I had the chef prepare it specially for you."

"Thank you, Grandfather." She forced a bite. The flavor was ash in her mouth.

"Steaming fish requires precision—"

Vivian barely listened.

How could Alfred sit here discussing cooking techniques while his grandson bled in the hall, starving and freezing?

When it was time to leave, she hesitated at the door, words trapped in her throat.

"Visit more often, child." Alfred smiled warmly.

"Grandfather, about Ethan—"

"Don’t." His gaze turned glacial. "He earned this. Pleading for him means joining him."

With that, he walked away.

Vivian stood in the cold, torn.

Then she steeled herself. They were divorced. His fate wasn’t her concern.

She hailed a taxi.

Winston rushed out, breathless. "Mrs. Lockhart, wait! If you leave, Master Blackwood will die!"

"We’re divorced. And I’m hardly the one to intervene. Try his next wife."

"You know Alfred despises her! His parents would make it worse. You’re the only one he’ll listen to!"

"His decisions are final. I can’t help."

The taxi arrived. As she reached for the door, Winston thrust a photo into her hands.

"Look at this. He’s barely conscious. If this continues, he won’t survive the night."

Against her will, Vivian’s chest tightened at the image.