Chapter 78

"I have proof!"

Susan Thompson struggled to her feet, the wounds on her back burning with searing pain. She gritted her teeth. "That card was mine, but the kidnappers stole it three days ago!"

"When Daniel was kidnapped, they used that card to extort me!" Her gaze locked onto Vincent King's icy eyes. "Nicole Capra and Candy Wilson are working together. This is their scheme!"

"Susan." Vincent's lips curled into a chilling smile. "Do you really think I'd believe such a ridiculous story?"

His slender fingers tapped rhythmically on the wheelchair armrest. "For every drop of Candy's blood you spilled, I'll make you repay a hundredfold."

A bitter laugh rose in Susan's throat. The gentle Vincent she once knew had become this delusional monster.

"Vincent, listen carefully." She enunciated each word. "I have zero interest in you or Candy."

"Is that so?"

With a flick of his wrist, bodyguards rushed forward, binding Susan with coarse ropes. The other end was secured to his black Maybach.

Her pupils contracted.

"Vincent! Are you insane?" She thrashed violently. "This is murder!"

A sharp pain tore through her stomach. Blood gushed from her lips, staining her white blouse crimson.

Vincent's brow twitched almost imperceptibly before his expression hardened again.

He slid gracefully into the driver's seat, lowering the window. "Last chance. Confess."

"I did nothing wrong!" Susan lifted her chin defiantly.

The engine roared to life.

Tires screeched as Susan was yanked forward, her body slamming onto the gravel path. Jagged stones shredded her clothes, carving bloody gashes across her skin.

Pain.

Every bone screamed in agony.

Her vision blurred. In the haze, she remembered the Vincent who took a knife for her in that dungeon. Now he would kill her with his own hands.

"Vincent...you'll regret this..."

Her voice faded, swallowed by the howling wind.

Before darkness claimed her, she heard the piercing screech of brakes.

Splash!

Ice-cold water drenched her.

Susan woke coughing violently, tied to the courtyard's plane tree. Every inch of her body throbbed. The water had seeped into her wounds, sending fresh waves of torment.

"Ready to talk?" Vincent stood before her, his black coat billowing in the wind.

She lifted heavy eyelids. "I...didn't..."

"Stubborn fool."

Vincent turned toward the car. The engine growled again. This time, the vehicle pointed directly at her.

He meant to run her over.

Susan laughed. How ironic—the man she'd nearly died saving would now send her to hell.

The tires screeched closer.

Ten meters.

Five.

Three...

Boom!

The Maybach slammed into the tree. Leaves rained down as the trunk shuddered violently.

The hood stopped half a meter from her body.

Vincent emerged, gripping her chin with bruising force. "Three seconds."

Susan closed her eyes.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

Silence.

With a snarl, Vincent punched the tree beside her head. "You're dead!"

He tore off his tie, retrieving a gasoline can from the trunk. The acrid smell filled the air.

"If you're so determined to protect your accomplices," he poured the liquid around her feet, "take your secrets to the grave."

The gasoline formed a deadly circle.

Click.

A blue flame danced from his lighter.

Vincent held it aloft, his eyes darker than the abyss. "Final warning."

Susan watched the flickering fire calmly.

"Vincent," she whispered, "when your memories return..."

"Don't grieve too much."