"I love Leo Gilbert. I love him, and I love our son just as fiercely. How could I possibly hurt him?"
Leo's voice cut through the basement's stagnant air like a blade of ice. "Beth Henson, I didn't believe your lies then, and I don't believe them now. Since you enjoy performing, I'll let you act until you break."
He barked into his phone, his tone devoid of mercy. "Double the leeches. Now."
The moment the order fell, a black, writhing tide poured from the vents above the iron cage. The mass of slick parasites instantly submerged my son's small, frail body.
Joey's faint, terrified cries were silenced in a heartbeat.
"No!"
Adrenaline surged through me, fueled by a mother's pure despair. I grabbed a heavy wooden stool, pivoting with a strength I didn't know I possessed, and swung it at the guard blocking my path.
Wood cracked against bone.
I didn't stop. I swung again and again, a red haze clouding my vision. Only when the guard collapsed, blood masking his face as he feebly held out the key in surrender, did I freeze. My chest heaved, my eyes burning. I snatched the key, my hands trembling so violently I could barely fit it into the lock.
When I finally threw the cage door open and pulled my son into my arms, the silence was deafening.
He was terrifyingly cold. I pressed my ear to his chest, desperate for a sound, a breath, a flutter.
Nothing.
I gritted my teeth, fighting the darkness encroaching on my vision. I hoisted Joey's limp body against my chest and stumbled toward the exit.
Behind me, the battered guard let out a vicious wheeze. "Don't waste your energy. Mr. Gilbert ordered every car on the property destroyed because Miss Fox didn't like the look of them. Accept your fate, Mrs. Henson. Young Master Joseph is destined to die in this basement."
Despair clawed at my throat. My knees buckled, and the world began to tilt into blackness.
Bang!
The basement door flew open, slamming against the concrete wall. A deafening roar of an engine echoed from outside, followed by heavy, frantic footsteps. A tall figure sprinted toward me, silhouetted against the blinding light from the doorway.
"Beth! I have a plane standing by! It's faster—we can get Joey to the hospital in minutes!"
Benjamin Swanson. My brother.
Seeing him was like finding a lifeline in a drowning sea. A spark of hope ignited in the ashes of my terror.
Five minutes later, I rushed into the emergency wing of the Gilbert Family Hospital, clutching my son's bloodied, leech-bitten body.
I grabbed Dr. Howard by the lapels of his white coat, my dignity forgotten. "Dr. Howard, please! I'm begging you. Save him! He's dying!"
Dr. Howard refused to meet my gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, his voice dropping to a shameful whisper. "Mrs. Henson... it's not that we don't want to save him. But Mr. Gilbert issued a death order. The hospital is currently cleared to receive only Miss Fox. No other patients are to be admitted."
The words hit me like a physical blow. My legs gave out, and I would have collapsed if Benjamin hadn't caught me.
His face contorted with rage, Benjamin whipped out his phone and dialed Leo.
"Leo!" he roared the moment the line connected. "Joey is dying! Order Dr. Howard to treat him immediately, or I swear you will regret this for the rest of your miserable life!"
Through the speaker, the wet, sickening sounds of intimacy were unmistakable.
After a long, agonizing pause, Leo's voice filtered through, dripping with disdain. "Beth really has talent. She even dragged you, her favorite adulterer, into her little play. I still haven't settled the score with you for the night she drugged me and crawled into your bed."
"Leo, you bastard!"
I snatched the phone from Benjamin's hand, screaming into the receiver. "Joey is your biological son! He was trapped in the leech pit! He's covered in wounds and he's not breathing! Tell the doctor to save him!"
Leo scoffed, a sound cruel enough to freeze blood. "Eva is pregnant with my twins. If the idiot dies, he dies. Stop making a fuss over nothing."
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The line went dead.
Every word had been a dagger. If the idiot dies, he dies.
Benjamin stared at the phone, his brows knitted in fury and confusion. He wanted to call back, to explain the truth—that we were siblings, that there was no affair—but the damage was done.
I met my brother's worried gaze and offered a broken, miserable smile.
Memories surged like a tidal wave.
I was five years old when Lily Gilbert took me from the orphanage and brought me to the Gilbert estate. From that day on, I was Leo's shadow.
I remembered a sunny afternoon in the garden. We were playing, tumbling through the grass, when we accidentally fell, our lips brushing in an innocent, accidental kiss. The young Leo had turned beet red. He shoved me away and ran off, flustered and embarrassed.
I had sat there in the grass, clutching my knees, worrying about how I would ever coax the angry young master into forgiving me.
How did we get here? I wondered, looking at my dying son. How did that little boy become this monster?
