Hedy’s POV
After arranging my mom’s funeral, I returned to the villa, pale-faced, clutching that small urn.
I set her urn down carefully, took up my documents, and was just about to leave when the bedroom door slammed open with a violent kick.
“Hedy! Where did you take Debbii?!”
I didn’t even look at him. My voice came out flat, numb.
“I don’t know. I didn’t.”
Bryson clearly didn’t believe me. Without a shred of mercy, he yanked me out of the room.
The moment I saw who was at the villa entrance, my expression finally cracked.
“Trevor!”
My brother was gagged, tied to a chair, surrounded by Bryson’s bodyguards.
For a second, I couldn’t even tell what Bryson was planning to do.
Then, his bloodshot eyes flashed. He gestured sharply to the men behind my brother.
They nodded, then suddenly raised thick batons, as wide as an arm, and brought them down on my brother’s body.
“Ahhh!”
He convulsed, blood already smearing across his clothes.
In an instant, my vision went red.
“Bryson! What are you doing?! I already told you—I didn’t do it! Why won’t you believe me?”
My voice rose to a near-scream.
But Bryson didn’t spare me a glance. He stared at my bound brother, his tone like ice.
“Hedy, from this moment on, I’ll count down from ten. With every number, your brother will take ten strikes. The doctor said his body is already very weak. If you don’t want him to die, then tell me where Debbii is.”
I shook with rage, glaring at my brother’s bloodied form, wishing I could tear the two of them apart right then.
“Bryson, I told you—I didn’t lay a finger on Debbii! I’m begging you. I’ll kneel if I have to! You know I’ve never lied to you! Please, believe me. Don’t hurt my brother!”
As I said this, I moved to kneel.
My brother was already coughing up blood. He was all I had left. I couldn’t lose him either!
But my pleading and my kneeling didn’t stir Bryson in the slightest.
He watched me sink to the floor and still began to count.
“Ten.”
Hearing that familiar countdown, I felt myself unravel.
“No! Stop! Bryson, you can’t do this! You’ll regret it!”
The batons fell again. Ten strikes. My brother’s mouth poured blood without pause.
“Nine.”
Seeing the guards raise their weapons once more, I wrenched free of Bryson’s grip and threw myself over my brother.
The batons crashed onto me instead. Pain ripped through my stomach, and a warm trickle of blood ran down my thighs.
The crimson seeped into my black dress, but all Bryson saw was my ashen face.
At last, his brows drew together.
“Stop!”
He strode forward, reaching to lift me, his eyes flickering with a trace of pain.
“Hedy, I…”
But before his apology could leave his lips, his secretary rushed up, thrusting a phone into his hand.
“Bryson, I’m in so much pain… Hurry up… Save me.”
Bryson’s outstretched hand froze.
He looked at me—nearly unconscious on the floor—as Debbii’s sobbing voice poured from the phone.
“Sir, we’ve found Miss Debbii’s location. The police are still handling the scene. She still needs your presence.”
Hearing that, Bryson finally made his choice.
His voice came out hoarse. “Take Hedy to the hospital. Get the best doctors for her. As for her brother, if anything happens to him, she’ll hate me forever. I’ll take care of Debbii’s situation first, then I’ll come right away.”
After saying that, he turned without hesitation and stepped into his car.
I could no longer hold on. My eyes fluttered shut, and the world went dark.
