The moment my eyes fell on my son's battered body, a storm brewed inside me. His face was marred with bruises, purple and swollen, his lips cracked, his skin scraped as though he had been dragged like a piece of trash. Tubes and bandages covered him, yet nothing could cover the shame that welled in my chest. I clenched my fists so tightly my knuckles turned white, veins straining under my skin.
Who dared to do this? Who had the audacity to lay their filthy hands on my son?
For two weeks, he lay in that bed, caught in an endless sleep, neither waking nor speaking. My wife never left his side. Every night, I watched her weep silently, her shoulders trembling, her fingers brushing against his unmoving hand as if her touch alone could bring him back. Her eyes were swollen, her voice hoarse from prayers and cries.
I placed a hand on her shoulder, my voice heavy, yet trembling with rage."Don't worry, honey," I whispered, though my words carried the weight of steel. "If I catch that bastard who dared to hurt our son… I'll make him pay with his life."
Her tears fell harder at my words, but she did not stop me. Perhaps she knew there was no convincing me otherwise.
I straightened, pulling out my phone. Within moments, my secretary answered, and I demanded the results of the investigation. His tone was hesitant, cautious, as though afraid the truth itself might ignite me further.
"Sir… according to the report, the CCTV footage was erased. Deleted completely. We found a note left on the door—a threat. But we do have witnesses. They said the attacker wore a mask. It's difficult to identify him unless… unless your son wakes and tells us directly."
My jaw tightened as I turned back to the hospital bed. My boy—my flesh and blood—looked so fragile, so pitiful. The child who once strutted through the halls of his school with arrogance, feared by his classmates, now lay broken. His condition was terrible, unrecognizable compared to the boy I knew.
"Go to his school," I ordered, my tone like ice. "Speak to his classmates. Find out if he had enemies. If anyone dares to speak against him… teach them a lesson they'll never forget."
The secretary paused, but only for a moment. "Yes, sir!"
As the line cut, I stood there, staring down at my son. My mind raced. I knew his reputation—how he wielded my name like a weapon, how I had covered his mistakes with money and influence. Fights, threats, incidents buried before they could reach the surface. He was feared, yes. Some hated him. But that was nothing new.
Still… beaten to the edge of death? My son?
This wasn't a random act of violence. This was personal. Calculated. Someone had planned this.
"Whoever you are," I muttered, brushing back my son's damp hair from his forehead, "you better be ready. Because I will never show mercy."
The room was silent save for the steady beeping of the heart monitor, but in my chest, the sound of vengeance was already pounding like war drums.
****
Craige/Killan PoV
We left Lory in the temporary care of Auntie Sanny before heading for school. Yuan walked beside me, quiet, his thoughts elsewhere, but my mind was sharper than a blade. I could feel it—the air was heavy, the calm before a storm. Something was bound to happen. We bid goodbye as soon we came to my school.
The moment I stepped into the classroom, the usual chatter died down in my ears. It wasn't that the room was silent; it was that I was focused. Watching. Waiting. And then—he came to me. The nerd.
He shuffled toward me, clutching his books like they were his only shield. His eyes darted nervously from one corner of the room to another, like a mouse that had just realized the snake was already coiled around it.
"What happened?" I asked, lowering my voice as I caught his pale face. "You look terrified."
He didn't answer. His lips parted, but no sound came out. His eyes were everywhere but mine.
"Hey." I grabbed both his shoulders and spun him toward me, forcing his gaze to meet mine. "Talk to me. What happened?"
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, and finally exhaled a trembling sigh. "I… I heard that Jay's father is looking for us. If they find out it was us…" His voice broke into a whisper, almost choking on his fear. "We're basically dead."
I leaned back, studying him. As expected. That family wouldn't let it slide. No one dared to cross them without paying the price. But me? I had been preparing for this long before the boy even realized what kind of game he was playing.
My lips curved into a slow smile. "Don't worry. They can't touch us."
The nerd stared at me like I'd gone insane. His fear clung to him like sweat. He didn't understand—he couldn't understand. I had someone in mind. Someone powerful enough to stand against Jay's family. Someone I could twist, no matter whose body I wore. This vessel might look weak, but my will was not bound to flesh.
"But how?" he hissed, his hands trembling against his books. "We don't have time to play games, Killan! They'll come for us. Soon!"
I tilted my head, calm even as the panic in his voice rose. "Then we don't wait for them."
He blinked. "What?"
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper that brushed his ear like a secret meant only for the doomed. "We escape. Right now."
His breath caught, his face paling even further. "E–escape?! Where are we even going?!"
I smirked, releasing his shoulders as I turned toward the door. The world outside was waiting, and so was the person I had in mind. "We're going to find that person who'll be a big help to us."
The nerd's eyes widened in disbelief. "WHAT?!" His voice cracked, half panic, half despair.
I didn't bother answering. Let him tremble. Let him doubt. In time, he would see. Because while others feared Jay's father and the power behind him, I wasn't afraid. Power bends to those who know how to take it—and I was more than ready to claim it.