No sooner had Victor finished speaking than his bodyguards sprang into action. One pinned the man''s head down while the other forced his mouth open, ignoring his desperate struggles. In a sh, they yanked out his tongue. The de came down-swift and merciless.


    A howl of agony echoed across the estate.


    The man writhed on the ground, clutching at the grass as blood seeped into the earth, staining thewn a vivid red.


    Some among the onlookers turned away, unable to stomach the grisly scene. Others barely flinched, their faces unreadable, as if brutality like this was little more than a passing inconvenience.


    But the calmest of all were the estate''s two true elders.


    At the head of the gathering sat Old Mrs. Lockridge and her husband, both white- haired yet radiating a sharp, undiminished presence. They reposed in their high- backed chairs, unmoved, as though they hadn''t seen the bloody spectacle unfolding before them.


    Mr. Lockridge sipped his tea with unhurriedposure.


    Not a ripple disturbed the surface of his cup.


    Mrs. Lockridge kept her head bowed, needles clicking as she continued knitting the half-finished scarf in herp.


    Beside her, a middle-aged woman dressed in a dark, elegant dress stood with her brow furrowed, visibly troubled. Atst, she leaned closer, whispering, "Mother, with Victor doing this in front of so many of our people... don''t you think—"


    Her words faltered.


    Without looking up, Mrs. Lockridge replied, voice cool as ever, “Let him do as he pleases."


    Arabe, standing nearby, gently tugged at the woman''s sleeve. "Aunt Sybil, don''t worry. Victor knows what he''s doing."


    Sybil Lockridge gave her niece a searching look, but said nothing more, lips pressed tightly shut.


    She nced across the garden toward Victor, concern flickering in her eyes.


    Victor had always been ruthless, and the family knew it. His hands were bloodied, his methods severe and unflinching. That was exactly why he''d been chosen and groomed as the Lockridges'' next patriarch.


    But usually, Victor kept his cruelty hidden-never disying it so openly before the family.


    This was the first time he''d done something so violent right in front of the entire Lockridge n.


    Arabe, catching the doubt on her aunt''s face, quietly offered an exnation. "Theresa-Victor''s childhood sweetheart, the one he never married-she''s always been his Achilles'' heel. You know what she means to him."


    Sybil nodded grimly.


    Theresa''s disappearance had once set the whole city abuzz.


    After she vanished from Serenity City without a trace, Victor had been like a man possessed, turning the city upside down in his search. Even those who helped Theresa escape-like Evangeline—had paid dearly.


    The memory of what Victor did to Evangeline that night sent a chill down Sybil''s spine.


    Suppressing her fear, she asked, "What does Theresa have to do with this?"


    She''d arrivedte, caught up by other matters, and had missed what happened earlier.


    Arabe lowered her voice even further. "That man just now... He told Victor that Theresa might already be dead. Victor overheard him."


    Now it all made sense to Sybil.


    No wonder Victor had lost control.


    Theresa had been gone for nearly six years, her fate a mystery. The Lockridges, with all their power, had never found her-alive or dead. Born the cherished heiress of the Carlisles, Theresa had lost her will to live after her beloved died. By the time she left Serenity City, she was a ghost of herself.


    Everyone suspected the worst. Otherwise, how could she have vanished sopletely?


    But no one dared voice it out loud.


    In the grand scheme of things, Victor cutting out the man''s tongue was almost merciful.


    The writhing man was quickly dragged away, and the blood was efficiently cleaned up. Only a few crimson smears on the grass hinted at the horror that had just taken ce.


    "Finn''s here."


    At that moment, Mrs. Lockridge''s voice, touched with delight, broke the tension.


    A rare smile softened her wrinkled face as she rose from her seat and strode quickly toward the doors where Finn had just arrived.


    Though he was still some distance away, she set aside her knitting and hurried to greet him.


    Even Mr. Lockridge''s stern expression eased.


    Finn embraced his grandmother warmly.


    "You''ve lost weight," she chided, fussing over him. "Now that you''re home, you should rest and eat properly. You''ve been working yourself too hard. I''ll have the kitchen send up something nourishing for you."


    Finn grinned. "No need, Grandma. My girlfriend likes me just the way I am."


    A subtle change flickered across Mrs. Lockridge''s face at that.


    She had, of course, heard about Finn and Evangeline.


    She never interfered in Finn''s affairs.


    But if it was Evangeline...


    She nced back at Victor as he approached, remembering well how Victor had once treated Evangeline.


    "Don''t worry, Grandma. I know what I''m doing," Finn said gently.


    She let the matter drop.


    Finn wasn''t just her favorite grandson. He was the darling of the entire Lockridge


    family. Whether old or young, no one could help but like him.


    Even Victor treated Finn differently from everyone else.


    Finn made his rounds, greeting the family with easy warmth.


    Under the heavy, bewildered gazes of those around him, he made his way over to Victor, who seemed to have been waiting for him.


    Before Finn could speak, Victor picked up the knife he''d used earlier, idly wiping the de clean with a napkin. His tone was nonchnt as he said, "So, I hear you''re seeing Evangeline now."