Chapter 6

"A life?"

Hearing Brandon's threat, Victoria didn't show fear. Instead, she let out a light laugh, as if she'd heard the funniest joke.

She took a step forward in her high heels, her eyes filled with amusement and mockery.

"Oh, Brandon, have you misunderstood something? What does this woman's life have to do with me, Victoria?"

"If you want to kill her, go ahead. Do it quickly. Once you're done, I'll save the police the trouble of catching a murderer and perhaps even get a commendation for civic bravery."

With that, she casually waved her hand.

The surrounding enforcers immediately understood. Instead of backing away, they raised their baseball bats, grinning menacingly, and slowly advanced towards us.

At this point, Brandon was completely flustered. He had thought he could use my life to threaten Victoria, but he hadn't expected this woman to be even more cold-blooded than he imagined.

"Don't come any closer! Don't force me! I really will do it!"

Brandon's hand trembled even more violently, the sharp blade uncontrollably scraping back and forth on my neck, opening a deeper wound.

More blood flowed, dripping onto the floor, a horrifying sight.

Seeing the enforcers closing in to within two meters, Brandon let out a desperate, frantic howl.

He suddenly released his left hand from my neck, then with all his might, shoved me hard in the back with both hands.

"Die! Block them for me!"

The immense push sent me flying like a cannonball.

What awaited me was not the enforcers catching me in their arms.

It was the heavy marble coffee table in the center of the living room.

In mid-air, time seemed to stretch endlessly.

I saw my parents' mouths agape in extreme terror, yet heard no sound from them; I saw the cold, evasive eyes of the enforcers; and I saw Brandon's back as he scurried towards the door like a rat.

Thump!

A dull thud.

My forehead struck the sharpest edge of the marble coffee table with precise, heavy impact.

Excruciating pain instantly swallowed my consciousness.

I collapsed heavily into a pool of blood, my body convulsing uncontrollably from nerve spasms. Warm blood gushed from my forehead, covering my eyes, turning my vision blood-red.

Before consciousness completely plunged into darkness, I heard the sound of enforcers swarming.

Brandon didn't even get a few steps before several baseball bats slammed into his hamstrings. He shrieked and fell to the ground.

Then came the chilling sounds of beating: the dull thuds of fists on flesh, the crisp snap of bones, and Brandon's heart-wrenching, inhuman screams.

"Ms. Sterling! Have mercy! Ms. Sterling! I was wrong!"

"I'm a dog! I'm just a dog you raised! Stop hitting me! Please, stop hitting me! You'll kill me!"

The one-sided beating continued for several minutes. Brandon was beaten bloody and bruised, his face swollen, his ribs God knows how many broken. He lay on the floor like a rag doll.

Then, a disgusting scene unfolded.

To save his life, Brandon actually crawled on the floor like a real dog, dragging his broken legs.

He left a long trail of blood across the floor, finally reaching Victoria's feet, desperately clinging to her black-stockinged calf.

"Ms. Sterling, I was wrong, I truly know I was wrong... Please give me another chance. I'll do anything for you."

"I'm good at serving people, I have good technique, you used to love it when I served you... Please, don't kill me.

Victoria looked down at him, a disgusted frown on her face. She raised her foot, clad in a pointed high-heel.

"You were pretty tough, pretty gutsy, holding a knife to that woman's throat earlier, weren't you?"

Victoria said coldly: "Lick it clean."

Brandon froze for a second, looking at the dust and blood splattered on her shoe tip.

But after only a second's hesitation, he stuck out his tongue like a real dog.

Fawningly, meticulously, and utterly without dignity, he kissed Victoria's dust-covered shoe tip and ankle.

As he licked, he slurred out disgusting, cheesy words:

"Ms. Sterling is my queen... I am my queen's most loyal dog... My queen, have mercy..."

I lay on the chillingly cold floor, blood still gushing, taking away my body's warmth.

But I still pushed with all my might, struggling to keep my eyes open, staring fixedly at this scene. I wanted to engrave that ugly, repulsive face deep into my memory.

The virtual panel paused for a few seconds.

Then, pop-up messages scrolled at an unprecedented, frantic speed, almost covering my entire vision:

"I'm going to throw up... This man, for money, for his life, truly has no bottom line, worse than an animal!"

"Summer Hayes is still bleeding! She's dying! He won't even look at her?!"

"Just moments ago, he was proposing with deep affection, and now he's licking another woman's shoe in front of his fiancée and future in-laws?! My worldview is shattered!"

"This scumbag deserves to die! What did Summer Hayes's family do to deserve all this?!"

"Can someone save the female lead? I can't bear to watch, it's too tragic!"

"The countdown is still flashing, too much blood loss, will Summer Hayes die?"

"System alert: Vital signs rapidly declining..."

Accompanied by the system's warning, my world faded into darkness.