She stepped forward with confident strides, her eyes watching him with an icy detachment as if trying to decode this bizarre scene. She extended her hand and lightly touched his blood-soaked chest. He remained as still as a rock, not moving nor uttering a word.
She spoke calmly as she withdrew her hand:
"Ah, so... it's not your blood. I expected that."
There was no trace of worry or fear on her face. If it were anyone else in her place, perhaps panic would have overtaken them, but she remained as cold as ice, as if this scene were nothing new to her.
Matheus glared at her, his voice dripping with sarcasm:
"Yes, it's not mine. Would you have preferred it to be my blood?"
She did not respond. She simply fell silent, her eyes studying his features with precision.
He grinned slyly, his eyes narrowing slowly:
"Well, well... you're truly your father's daughter. What could be better than seeing the blood of your enemy, right?"
She crossed her arms firmly over her chest and answered in a dry tone:
"If I wanted you dead, you'd already be dead, wouldn't you, darling?"
He smiled a cold smile and replied with calmness:
"It would be an honor for me to die at the hands of my wife."
She sighed and rolled her eyes before asking him directly:
"Alright then, whose blood is this?"
He tilted his head slightly, as though contemplating her question, then replied coldly:
"I think I just got rid of a rat that was in my way. But you know, rats are filthy creatures, and dirt is inevitable."
She took another step toward him, her gaze growing sharper as she spoke in a low voice that still carried an undercurrent of fury:
"You killed him, didn't you?"
Matheus smirked with feigned ignorance, responding as though pretending not to understand:
"Killed him? Who?"
Her eyes narrowed in clear anger, her brows furrowing as she retorted sharply:
"Don't play dumb, Matheus. You know who I mean. David."
A heavy silence hung between them for a few moments before a dark smile curled on his lips, as though her words had sparked some twisted delight in him, yet he remained silent.
His mind wandered, taking him back to that dark night when Baron David had fallen into his grip. The echoes of his memories brought the events to life once more, as if he were reliving them.
"My lord, we have brought him."
These words marked the beginning of the end for the man. The baron was shoved into the room, his condition pitiable, his face pale, his eyes lost between fear and confusion. Matheus advanced toward him slowly, a devilish smile never leaving his face. He seized him by the chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.
"Ah, we meet for the first time, my so-called brother-in-law."
The baron trembled, trying to feign strength, but it was an utter failure. He cried out in a shaky voice:
"What? Who are you? Where am I? Get me out of here! You'll be in trouble if you don't, I'm a noble!"
Matheus placed his hand over the baron's mouth, signaling for silence.
"Shh... No one will hear you here. So save your screams and spare me the earache."
Then, with feigned gentleness, he took the baron's hand and began to caress his fingers as if inspecting them.
"You have beautiful fingers, Baron David. Do you know that?"
David tried to yank his hand away violently, but he failed, and Matheus smirked mockingly, continuing:
"So, these are the fingers that left marks on my wife's neck? How sweet..."
He glanced at the knights standing behind him and said coolly:
"Bring the manacles table."
Within moments, the knights brought the table and shackled the baron's hands to the metal restraints fixed upon it. The baron began to shake uncontrollably, and his voice rose in protest:
"What are you doing? Why are you binding my hands? Get me out of here!"
But his questions were quickly silenced when Matheus returned to the room carrying a heavy hammer. He began circling the table slowly, his eyes fixed on David like a predator watching its prey inescapably caught in a trap.
"Hmm... You know, Baron, it's very annoying to return home after a month and find another man's handprint on my wife's neck. Had I left those marks, I would've asked her to kill me."
It was then that David realized Matheus was speaking of the Duchess. His features faltered, and his voice rose as he tried to justify himself:
"Your Grace, I never meant to! I was only trying to win back my wife!"
But his words were futile. Matheus raised the hammer high and struck David's finger with all his might, turning it into a pulp of crushed flesh. The baron's scream tore through the silence of the room, accompanied by his tears and the relentless flow of mucus.
"Ahh! I can't take it! Please, have mercy!"
Matheus moved closer, his eyes glinting with deadly mockery:
"Your wife? She's my sister bastard."
David's face froze, turning even paler. But he didn't get a moment's relief, for Matheus raised the hammer again and struck the next finger. With every blow, the pain intensified, and David's screams grew weaker until he was left with only faint, feeble murmurs.
Leon stood behind Matheus, watching the scene with an emotionless expression, as though accustomed to such horrors. When Matheus finished his "work," Leon calmly spoke:
"So, brother, you've avenged your wife. May I now have some fun avenging our sister?"
Matheus threw the hammer aside and slumped into a chair, exhausted.
"Unshackle his hands. Leon, I heard from Isabella that Lila's body was covered in bruises. They told me she was tortured daily, even while pregnant, and locked in the cellar. Do what you think is right."
Leon smiled coldly, taking a steel chain and wrapping it around his hand, leaving part of it dangling. He began to swing the chain through the air before suddenly delivering a powerful blow to David's body. The baron screamed at the top of his lungs, but his cries weakened with each strike.
As he began to lose consciousness, Leon cast a magical incantation to prevent him from sleeping, saying sarcastically:
"Oh, you want to sleep? No, my brother-in-law. You will taste everything while you are fully awake."
Leon continued to strike until David's body became a mass of purple flesh. He then stopped and turned to Matheus:
"Brother, I think the beating is no longer effective. It's late. Should I end his life?"
David could barely look at them, his eyes pleading for death to end his suffering. Matheus rose from his seat and walked toward Leon.
"Alright, it's already late. Lila asked me to meet her before eleven. It's half-past ten now. Let's finish it."
A faint smile appeared on David's face, a brief flicker of relief, knowing that his torment was about to end.
Leon stepped out momentarily, returning with a bottle of oil. He began pouring it onto Baron David, whose breath faltered for a moment, frozen in fear. Matheus struck a match and smiled at him.
"Send my regards to my father in hell, Baron David."
He threw the lit match onto David, and flames erupted across his body. The baron screamed and struggled to extinguish the fire, but it spread rapidly, consuming him entirely until he burned to ashes and died.
The two men exited the room and instructed the guards to dispose of the body in the gutters of his own estate, before returning to the palace.
After a long moment of drifting thoughts, Matheus snapped back to reality and looked towards Olivia. Then, he heard the sound of a knock on the door—Leila's voice calling out. He was a mess, bloodied and unkempt, not having had time to change after the events. Olivia, too, noticed the blood on Matheus, and realizing Leila would see it, she swiftly moved toward him, drawing him close and wrapping his hands around her waist.
"Hey Olivia, What are you doing...?"
Before he could finish his sentence, she pulled him closer, locking her lips to his in a long kiss.