Her Guard Dog Wants Out of the Leash

Everyone knows I'm Sinead Powell's most loyal dog. I take bullets for her during the day and share her bed at night. In the past ten years, I've never once crossed the line. But on the day Sinead secures the western coast partnership deal, I kneel in the Powell family chapel and formally ask to leave. Sinead's grandfather, Gregory Powell, stares at me with an intimidating gaze. "Are you sure you want to leave the Powell family?" I prostrate myself and press my forehead to the ground. "Please grant my request, Mr. Powell." I came from a reclusive family that specializes in combat arts. When my father was falsely accused and sent to prison, Gregory's wife, May Powell, has stepped in and saved his life. To repay her kindness, Dad assigned me to protect her only granddaughter, Sinead. Three years ago, Wesley White appeared with the emerald pendant left behind by the late May and became Sinead's fiancé. He subjected me, her loyal bodyguard who she barely even acknowledges as her lover, to relentless torment. Over the past three years, I've had a broken leg and lost my eyesight. The worst torture I've suffered is when Wesley lost a bet and handed me over like a plaything to a sadistic South Arlian businesswoman. I was brutally carved up 99 times, and my body was still covered in scars to this day. Chapter 1 Elijah's POV That time, I had nearly died. I couldn't take it anymore and went to Sinead Powell. All she did was pin me to the bed and apply medicine to my wounds. With a frown on her face, she said, "Wesley White will eventually be my husband. He has the right to decide everything in the Powell family, including what happens to you." Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't dare make a sound. I only clenched my fists and swallowed my pain once again. Then, I heard a helpless sigh behind me. Sinead carefully avoided my wounds and nestled against me, stroking my cheek like she was soothing a child. Finally, to my utter astonishment, she placed a light kiss on my lips. "For my sake, endure it all." Her kiss was so gentle, yet so overwhelming. I couldn't tell whether she really meant it. The next morning, when I woke up, the space beside me was empty. All I received was an order. "Ms. Powell says you crossed the line last night. Starting now, you'll kneel outside the door. You are not to get up without her permission." Crossed the line… Those words had defined my ten years in the Powell estate. I had gotten tired of kneeling all the time. Once again, I went to Sinead's grandfather, Gregory Powell, and pleaded with him. "The Powell family never makes light of its promises. There are only seven days left in our ten-year agreement. Please grant me permission to leave." Gregory was furious, but then, something seemed to occur to him. He sneered, "Fine. Leave, and don't ever come back." Relief washed over me. He had agreed to my request. I rose and bowed respectfully before walking away on my aching legs. But the moment I stepped through the front gate, a figure came hurtling toward me. I instinctively dodged, but I still ended up sprawled on the ground. "Lucky!" At the sound of a man's voice, the dog that had barreled into me turned and raced back. My body, however, went rigid. I quickly pushed myself to my feet and got down on my knee. That was a rule Wesley had imposed on me. Every time I saw him, I had to kneel in greeting. Wesley shot me a contemptuous glance before bending down to pet Lucky. Then, he narrowed his eyes and scolded, "You've got some nerve! How dare you damage the outfit I had custom-made for Lucky?" My heart lurched. I looked up at his hand and saw him pluck a loose thread from the silk outfit the dog was wearing. I lowered my gaze to my own hands. They were covered in thick calluses and scars. With hands like mine, it seemed inevitable that I'd damage something as delicate as silk. Before I could react, he slapped me across the face. My ears rang, drowning out everything around me. Just then, a woman's voice broke through the ringing. "What's the matter, Wesley?" Wesley immediately changed his demeanor. He shook his head with an air of refined elegance and showed a hint of wounded innocence in his eyes. He replied, "Sinead, I know Mr. Storie has never liked me, but that doesn't give him the right to deliberately ruin Lucky's clothes…" Knowing this was going to end badly, I hurried to explain. "I didn't…" But before I could finish, a cold voice cut me off. "Who gave you permission to speak?" Bitterness filled my heart. I raised my head and met Sinead's cold gaze. Then, I lowered my head again, preparing to endure whatever punishment came next. But I never expected Wesley would make things infinitely worse for me. He said, "You must be punished. You dared lay a hand on Lucky today. What's to stop you from doing the same to me tomorrow? Your ten years in the Powell family have gone to your head, and you've forgotten your place. You're nothing but a dog the Powell family took in." Then, in a casual, almost careless tone, he added, "Guards, take Mr. Storie to the battle arena. I want him to know that even among dogs, some are worth more than others." I jerked my head up and stared at Wesley in disbelief. The battle arena was an exclusive entertainment venue for the heirs of the wealthy families. The beasts they held captive there were vicious and bloodthirsty. Anyone sent into the arena would either die or leave severely injured. I clenched my fists. I knew begging Wesley would be useless, so I couldn't help turning to Sinead once more. But she merely gazed at Wesley tenderly and nodded. "Do anything you want if it makes you happy." Chapter 2 Elijah's POV Despair filled my heart as the guards arrived. They locked me inside an iron cage and hauled me off to the battle arena. Sinead turned to leave, but for some reason, she caught my gaze and paused. "I haven't been to the arena in a long time. Let's go together." Wesley's expression shifted slightly. He still wore that dignified, gentle smile as he glanced at me, but I could detect a trace of malice lurking beneath it. The battle arena stood at the very heart of the western coast. Spectators filled the seats. The moment I entered, the overwhelming stench of blood hit me. Sammie Foster, my junior fellow bodyguard, heard what had happened and rushed to the arena. She dropped to her knees before Sinead and begged, "Ms. Powell, the beasts in the arena are incredibly vicious. Even those who survive their matches end up crippled. Please, for the sake of everything Elijah has done for you, spare him!" Before Sammie could finish, a boot slammed into her chest and sent her sprawling to the ground. She coughed up a mouthful of blood. I was curled up inside a cage barely three feet tall, my body covered in whip marks. The moment I saw what happened, I grabbed the bars and shook them frantically. "Sammie!" I cried. "You two… seem to be quite close." Sinead's icy voice rang out before me. My head jerked up in response, only to meet her cold gaze. Wesley beamed brightly beside her. "Yeah. Anyone who didn't know better might think you two were a couple." Even now, he was still making up lies to slander Sammie and me. Fury surged through me. But before I could speak, Sinead moved again, and the words died in my throat. She kicked Sammie in the chest once more. "Ah!" Sammie cried out in agony, spitting out broken teeth that were mixed with blood. "No one can lay a hand on what's mine," Sinead said stoically. I clenched my jaw hard while trembling all over, not daring to make a sound. Sinead regarded me as her possession. She would never tolerate even the slightest thought of defiance, nor would she allow me to get close to anyone else. I couldn't let Sammie suffer because of me. But as I watched the scene unfold, I suddenly found it all laughable. Tragic, even. Because of a debt of gratitude, I'd sacrificed ten years of my youth and surrendered every shred of my dignity. Yet, in the end, I wasn't even worth as much as an outfit worn by Wesley's pet dog. Perhaps I was trying to appeal to her sympathy, or it could be that I simply couldn't tolerate it anymore. In a trembling voice, I said to Sinead, "I just suffered serious injuries a couple of days ago. If you send me into the arena now, I'm as good as dead." "Know your place," Sinead cut me off, her voice cold and merciless. "What makes you think you're entitled to defy Wesley's orders?" Her words pierced through my heart like an arrow. In her eyes, I wasn't worth even a fraction of what Wesley was. I could no longer bring myself to beg. Just then, the spectators on both sides of the arena broke into a chorus of shouts and jeers, snapping me out of my thoughts. I looked up. On the opposite side of the arena, a six-foot-tall cage was wheeled out. It contained a lion. The beast let out a piercing, ravenous roar that sent chills down my spine. One glance at it was enough to make anyone's legs go weak. "That thing looks terrifying." Wesley sounded startled, as if the sight had frightened him. Then, he turned to look at me and added, "Even so, Mr. Storie is so formidable. I'm sure he'll win. But if he wins too quickly, that would spoil the fun." "What do you have in mind?" Sinead asked indulgently. Wesley flashed her a small smile and said, "I've heard that Mr. Storie's hand-to-hand combat is second to none." Without a moment's hesitation, Sinead turned to the arena staff beside her and ordered, "Break both his hands." Chapter 3 Elijah's POV Everyone present stared at Sinead in shock and disbelief. Her decision had no doubt destroyed my last chance of survival. "What are you waiting for? Do it," Sinead urged, her expression darkening. The staff snapped out of their stupor. None of them dared to disobey her. Sammie struggled to get up, but several men held her down firmly. I was no pushover, though. Even when I was locked inside the cage, I was still too strong for them to get close enough to break my hands. That was, until Sinead suddenly stepped forward grimly and brought her foot down on Sammie's knee without warning. The excruciating pain caused Sammie's body to arch as a broken cry of agony escaped her lips. My pupils dilated. Instinctively, every muscle in my body tensed. Sinead looked at me and said calmly, "I'll give you three seconds." She raised her foot. The moment she uttered "One", she brought it down on Sammie's left knee. A sickening crack rang out. At last, I understood what she meant. If I refused to obey, she would torture Sammie instead. "Two…" Just as Sinead was about to stomp on Sammie's arm, I grabbed my left wrist and snapped it with all my strength. In an instant, my whole body was drenched in cold sweat. Sinead stopped and said, "That's more like it." She gave me a miserly nod of approval. My heart sank into despair. Seeing that I had given in, the arena staff immediately seized my right wrist and twisted it with force. A sharp crack sounded. Both my wrists swelled and hung limply at my sides. "The match is about to begin. Send him out," Sinead ordered. "Yes, Ms. Powell." The staff shoved the wheeled cage forward, pushing me into the vast, blood-soaked arena. As I passed Sinead, I heard her say softly, "Let this be a lesson. You need to know your place. If you want to stay by my side, you'll have to learn to bow your head to Wesley." Pain seemed to coil around every bone and muscle in my body, but I didn't look back. Instead, I tensed every muscle I could and fixed my gaze on my opponent in the distance. I couldn't die. I had to make it home alive. The moment my cage was wheeled into the arena, the spectators started cheering in excitement. Their cries roused the starving lion, and its golden pupils locked onto me. "The match begins now!" As the referee blew on his whistle, both cages swung open. The lion lunged at me without hesitation. I tried to dodge, but in the next second, a sudden rush of air cut past my ears. Before I could react, pain exploded through my arm. Someone had shot me. I looked up in stunned disbelief and saw Sinead in the VIP box, watching Wesley tenderly as she took the gun back from him. That gun was a family heirloom left to her by her father. Even I had never been allowed to touch it. As I stumbled desperately to evade the lion, I faintly heard Sinead speaking to Wesley with concern. "This gun has a very strong recoil. Look, your hand is all red." The pain coursing through my body grew more unbearable by the second. Yet, Sinead lowered her head and kissed Wesley's reddened palm, cherishing it as if it were something precious beyond measure. A loud roar rang out. The scent of blood drove the lion into an even greater frenzy. Seizing its chance, it pounced on me and sank its teeth into my shoulder. For one terrifying moment, I truly believed I was going to die. However, I gritted my teeth and refused to give up. Using my arms, I forced the lion's jaws open and held them apart with all my strength. Desperately, I slipped out from beneath its body and raced like a madman toward a spear lying nearby. Then, I fought back. I had no idea how much time passed. I kept going until every inch of skin on my body was marred by injuries. Finally, the lion collapsed to the ground, defeated. I had won, but I lost consciousness. Chapter 4 Elijah's POV I woke up three days later. After examining me, the doctor remarked in amazement, "You've got an incredible will to live. You've come back from the brink of death several times now." I could only manage a bitter smile. To stay by Sinead's side, having an indomitable will to pull through life-and-death situations was a basic requirement for survival. But before I could ask about anything else, the doctor received a message and hurriedly left. I followed him, never expecting that he was going to see Sinead. The doctor told her, "Ms. Powell, you're three months pregnant, but the pregnancy isn't progressing well. You're showing signs of a possible miscarriage. You must avoid overexerting yourself from now on." I froze in shock and stared at Sinead's still-flat stomach. Three months ago, Sinead had gone head-to-head with her opponents in a fierce round of corporate negotiations and emerged victorious. That very night, she had come to my room and passionately pulled me into a kiss. At the last possible moment, she had slipped a pill into my hand. It was a birth control pill. Sinead didn't want to risk having my child. As the contraceptives available to women would have caused negative health effects to her body, I was the one who had to take them instead. However, I'd been suffering from a high fever caused by my injuries that night. When I was delirious and barely conscious, I must have spat the pill back out. My heart clenched at that memory. This child had come at the worst possible time. I frowned as I heard Sinead instruct the doctor, "Not a word of this to anyone." The doctor nodded. After a brief pause, she asked, "How is he doing?" I thought she was asking about me, but the doctor replied, "Mr. White only suffered a few minor abrasions on his hands. He's going to be fine." Sinead asked a few more questions, but she never mentioned me once. A wave of sorrow washed over me. I remembered the time I'd taken a bullet while carrying out an assignment for her. I'd been unconscious and hovering between life and death. Back then, Sinead had stayed by my bedside for seven days and didn't sleep a wink. When I finally woke up, she hadn't said a word about it. But from then on, she always appeared at my bedside during the night whenever I fell ill. Nevertheless, it didn't matter anymore. I was going to leave anyway. This child and I were simply never meant to be. I stopped listening and returned to my room. Then, I went straight to the nurses' station and arranged to be discharged. I had no idea what awaited me when I returned to the Powell estate. The moment I stepped into the courtyard, I was confronted by a horrifying sight. Sammie was kneeling on the ground, and it was unclear if she was still alive. A huge patch of skin had been torn from her back. "Sammie!" A scream of anguish tore from my throat. I rushed forward and kicked away the man who had been peeling off her skin. Then, I dropped to my knees and tried to lift her with my trembling hands. Her head hung limply. She struggled to open her eyes and look at me. She called out weakly, "Elijah…" Tears streamed down my face as I said, "Don't be afraid. I'll get you to a doctor right now!" I rose to my feet, but a cold voice stopped me in my tracks. "You're not taking her anywhere." I looked up. Sinead stood a short distance away, with Wesley standing beside her, holding Lucky. A tailor stood nearby, sweating profusely. He was taking Lucky's measurements, while one of the bodyguards held up a piece of skin that had been torn from Sammie's back. They were using Sammie's skin to make clothes for the dog! "I've already paid the price. Why are you still hurting Sammie?" I clenched my fists tightly, my eyes bloodshot as I stared at Sinead. She knew Sammie was my junior. Sammie had even taken a bullet for her once and saved her life when she was in mortal danger. And yet, Sinead spoke as casually as if she were discussing the weather. "Sammie disrespected Wesley. She deserved to be punished." I yelled, "Punished? We're not your slaves! I stayed by your side only because I owed you a debt of gratitude. What more do you want from me? What more do you want?" At that moment, I completely lost control. I screamed until my throat felt raw. "How much was that outfit worth? I'll pay you back every last cent! Can't you leave us alone? It's just a piece of clothing for a dog!" Wesley retreated behind Sinead, pretending to be frightened. Sinead frowned, and her expression hardened. "What kind of attitude is that?" I had no intention of arguing with her anymore. Ignoring the frosty look on her face, I carefully lifted Sammie to her feet and tried to walk away with her. "Stop!" Sinead commanded. The next second, dozens of bodyguards blocked my path. Without saying a word, I lowered Sammie back to the ground and charged at them. But as Sinead continued issuing orders, more and more bodyguards joined in. I was already exhausted, so my strength was rapidly failing me. Suddenly, I saw Sinead clutch her abdomen and retreat slightly, seemingly afraid of getting hurt. As the thought of our baby flashed through my mind, I turned aside and took two steps back instead of prolonging the fight that might hurt her. I couldn't afford to waste any more time. Sammie couldn't hold on much longer. I turned, my gaze burning as I fixed my eyes on Wesley, who was being shielded by Sinead. By the time Sinead realized something was wrong, I'd already charged forward and swung a fist at Wesley's face. My punch was a fraction too late. Or rather, someone had stepped in to block it. My fist was about to strike Sinead's cheek when I instinctively pulled back at the last moment, holding back most of my strength. Her head still turned to the side from my softened blow. Right away, her cheek swelled and turned red. She had taken the punch meant for Wesley. A dull thud echoed as an iron rod smashed into my head. I collapsed in stunned disbelief. The last thing I saw before I passed out was Sinead casting an indifferent glance in my direction. Chapter 5 Elijah's POV When I regained consciousness, I found myself chained inside a specially constructed water dungeon with iron shackles binding me in place. There was only one man standing before me. Wesley held a whip in his hand and slowly turned to face me. "Do you remember the rules the Powell family laid down for you?" I felt a jolt of fear in my heart. Of course I remembered. Every time I harmed my employer, whether intentionally or accidentally, I would be subjected to 99 lashes. I'd expected this punishment, but I never imagined Wesley would be the one to carry it out. What frightened me even more was the gleam in his eyes as he spoke softly. Wesley hissed, "Why were you staring at Sinead's stomach that day? Could it be… that she's carrying your child?" He would never allow that child to be born! Forcing myself to remain calm, I gritted my teeth and replied, "I take my pills every time. Don't make baseless assumptions." Wesley smiled faintly. "It's fine if you won't admit it. Even if that child is born, they'll end up just like you and be a slave to my child." As soon as he finished speaking, his expression shifted. He raised the whip and lashed me viciously. The barbed whip sliced through the air, tearing into the side of my neck before traveling down to my abdomen. When he yanked it back, the barbs ripped through my flesh, splattering blood and torn skin around. I'd known all along that Wesley was no harmless man, but his cruelty exceeded anything I'd imagined. I couldn't help crying out in pain, and my body convulsed. And that was only the first lash. The underground dungeon echoed with the crack of the whip cutting through the air and my muffled groans as I endured the agony. Then came the second lash and the third… Every strike was merciless. By the time the torture finally ended, there wasn't a single uninjured patch of skin left on my body. I was drenched in blood and barely clinging to life. Following a heavy creak, the door to the water dungeon opened, and Sinead walked in. Her gaze lingered on my battered body. For a moment, there was a pained look in her eyes, but it was quickly buried beneath her usual indifference. She took the whip from Wesley and tossed it aside before pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his hands. "He wasn't worth your trouble," she said. Then, she turned to me and asked, "Why haven't you thanked Mr. White for your punishment?" Silence filled the room. Wesley smirked as he watched me smugly. Despair consumed me. With great difficulty, I struggled to get up. The chains binding me rattled faintly as I moved. "Thank you, Mr. White, for your punishment…" I prostrated myself and bowed my head against the floor. Then, I lost consciousness completely. Someone later carried me out of the water dungeon and took me to my room. There, the Powell family's doctor examined me and began treating my injuries. Basin after basin of bloody water was carried out of the room. Sinead happened to visit while the treatment was underway. The sight was so disturbing that she retched. In the end, she could no longer keep her pregnancy a secret. When I woke up again, the first thing I saw was Sinead's strikingly beautiful yet cold side profile. She asked, "Why didn't you tell me you knew I was pregnant?" I remained silent. She immediately grabbed my chin and forced me to look up at her. "Were you planning to use this child to blackmail me?" Her grip hurt, but it was her next sentence that sent a chill through my entire body. "Stop dreaming. Even if I give birth to your child, your position in the Powell family won't change one bit." Sinead then lowered her gaze to her flat stomach. "But this child can grow up alongside Wesley's child. The two of them will be brothers, after all. That's better than having some outsider around." It felt as though a bolt of lightning had struck me. In an instant, I understood exactly what she meant. For the rest of my life, I'd never be able to hold my head up in front of Wesley. And the child I fathered would be condemned to serve his child as a slave and attendant. My body trembled faintly as her hand brushed across my cheek. "Be good and know your place. That way, you'll be able to stay in the Powell family for a long time." After saying that, Sinead sighed. Just then, an attendant called softly from outside, "Mr. White is looking for you." Sinead left without any hesitation. I was left alone in the cramped room. I propped myself up with great difficulty and turned my head. My gaze landed on an airline ticket tucked beneath the lamp on the bedside table. Five more days, and I'd finally be free of this place. As I put the ticket away, I couldn't help but feel a little hopeful. But before I could even recover from my injuries, several attendants dragged me out of bed that night and brought me to Wesley's room. His spacious bedroom, which was nearly a thousand square feet, was brightly lit. Wesley was propped up against the bed, his face pale. Beside him, the doctor explained, "Mr. White suffered a sudden episode of shock that caused him to faint." A sense of dread welled up inside me. Sure enough, the doctor turned to me the next second and continued, "This is urgent. We must find someone born around the same date as Mr. White. We need their blood to cure his condition." Chapter 6 Elijah's POV "How much blood will he need?" Sinead asked the doctor while gently patting Wesley's back. "Mr. White needs to bathe in blood," the doctor replied. Sinead hummed in acknowledgment and kissed Wesley on the forehead. Then, she ordered in an even tone, "Do it. Wesley's health comes first." Not once did either of them bother to ask if I was willing to give my blood. And how could one person's blood possibly fill an entire bathtub? And even if it could, would I have any chance of surviving after the ordeal? I tried to retreat, but the attendants pinned me down, pressing on my shoulders. The doctor approached me with an enormous needle. The next moment, pain spread through every bone and muscle in my body. My face drained of color as I shook my head. "No…" My feeble resistance didn't generate an ounce of sympathy in Sinead. Frowning, she covered Wesley's ears and shot me a warning glance. I knew perfectly well that if I continued to resist, the punishment awaiting me would be nothing short of hell. Would I still have a chance to leave the Powell family after that? The answer was obvious. I lowered my head and gave up resisting, allowing the needle to pierce my vein. As my blood was drawn, a sharp, hollow pain spread throughout my body. Fresh bruises from the needles appeared on skin already covered in whip marks. My strength drained away. The attendants had to grip my limbs and force me upright while the doctor finally spoke up, unable to bear it any longer. He warned, "If we draw any more blood, Mr. Storie could go into hemorrhagic shock." "Is there enough blood for Wesley's bath?" Sinead asked sternly. The doctor shook his head. "Then keep going." At her command, the doctor had no choice but to obey. My body grew colder and colder until I finally lost consciousness. They forcibly revived me, only to begin drawing blood again. That happened three times. In the end, they dragged me to the bathtub and slit my wrist. They submerged my hand in the water until the surface turned crimson. Then, they dragged me out of the bedroom like a piece of trash and threw me into the storage room that was barely a hundred square feet. Cold seeped into every part of my body. I nearly passed out again when Sammie appeared from nowhere and rushed toward me, her face deathly pale. "Hang in there, Elijah!" She smuggled me out of the Powell estate and took me to the hospital for emergency treatment. By the following morning, my heart, which had stopped several times, was beating steadily again. But what hurt me even more was the news Sammie brought. "Ms. Powell had an amniocentesis. The baby wasn't Mr. White's, so she terminated the pregnancy. I went through a lot of trouble to steal the baby…" Sammie held out a surgical tray. On it lay a tiny embryo that was no bigger than my palm. My heart felt as though it were being torn apart. My child had never even gotten the chance to come into this world. "Please… make a headstone for the baby, will you?" I begged, gripping Sammie's arm. Unable to bear the sight of my grief, she could only nod. She picked up the tray and left, her uneven gait painfully obvious. Endless regret and anguish washed over me, yet I couldn't find the words to express any of it. All I could do was watch her limp away. I didn't dare stay at the hospital any longer. Forcing my battered body to move, I returned to the Powell estate. Before entering my room, I heard Sinead and Wesley laughing and chatting together. I didn't look back. I simply closed the door behind me. A jar of all-healing balm sat on the table. I knew what it meant. It was Sinead's way of offering me consolation, as well as a warning. I put the balm away in a drawer and sat motionless like a statue for the entire day. By dusk, members of the bodyguard team came looking for me. "Ms. Powell is attending Mr. Price's banquet tonight to discuss a business partnership. She has specifically requested that you accompany her." I had no choice but to change into my uniform and face Sinead once again. Wesley had his arm around her waist, looking every bit the dignified gentleman. The other bodyguards and I knelt silently on either side of them. Only after the couple got into their car did we prepare to follow. The bodyguards' vehicle was right behind theirs, but when I approached it, someone stopped me. "Mr. White gave us an order. He said you've been neglecting your training lately, so you'll follow the cars on foot tonight." My heart lurched. The journey from the Powell estate to the yacht at the coast was at least ten miles. My body was battered and worn out. There was no way I could keep up with them at their usual speed. "If you can't keep up, you'll be punished." Chapter 7 Elijah's POV The bodyguard delivered the warning in a low voice. Then, he started the car and sped away, leaving me standing in a cloud of dust. I gritted my teeth and had no choice but to follow. The car moved at an incredible speed. As I ran, my bones seemed to crack, and my wounds tore open all over again. Bloody footprints marked the ground behind me. Half an hour later, I finally reached the coast. My breathing was ragged, and I couldn't stop myself from bending over and spitting out a mouthful of blood. "Are you alright?" A concerned voice came from beside me. Then, a clean silk handkerchief was held out in front of me. Startled, I hurriedly straightened up and stepped back, only to find a woman with alluring features smiling at me. She laughed and said, "Don't you remember me, Mr. Storie? I'm from the eastern shores." I pressed my lips together and said nothing. She didn't seem offended. Instead, she gave me a meaningful look and said, "I heard you're planning to leave the Powell family. Let me offer you a friendly warning, Mr. Storie. Gregory isn't someone you want to cross. When he promises to let someone leave, it often means… death." My pupils dilated, and cold sweat broke out across my body. She was right. Gregory was arrogant and domineering. Would he really let me leave, behind Sinead's back? Or was he simply waiting for the right moment to silence me permanently? "I can help you," the woman said with a smile. Before I could react, she pressed the handkerchief into my palm. Then, she walked away with her entourage and disappeared into the crowd. I lowered my gaze to the handkerchief. A string of numbers had been written along one of its folds. It was a phone number. After a moment's hesitation, I tucked the handkerchief away, steadied myself, and swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. Then, I walked toward Sinead and Wesley, taking up my position beside them as their bodyguard. The people around us looked at me with a mixture of pity and amusement. I lowered my head, kept my body rigid, and remained silent. Everyone on the western coast knew what Sinead and I were to each other. Just then, Wesley spoke. "Come here." I walked over to him. He picked up a piece of goose meat with his fork and turned toward me with a smile. "Good dog. Open your mouth." My breathing caught upon hearing that. Sinead was standing nearby, holding a champagne flute as she chatted with other guests. At the sound of Wesley's voice, she turned to glance at me. Her gaze fell on my knees. My entire body stiffened. But under their watchful eyes, I knelt, tilted my head back, and opened my mouth for Wesley to feed me. Seafood, pasta, cake, wine… In the end, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I retched uncontrollably in a disgraceful and wretched manner. "Useless piece of trash." Wesley scolded and flung the knife and fork he was holding at me. In an instant, a deep gash appeared on my cheek, and blood streamed down my face. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out above the yacht. The crowd descended into chaos. I sprang to my feet, reacting on instinct, and lunged toward Sinead. The gun aimed at her missed its target. "Nobody move!" Screams rang out. I looked up and saw a blond man holding Wesley hostage with a gun pressed against his forehead. "Sinead, save me!" Wesley shouted in panic. "Let Wesley go. I'll give you whatever you want." Sinead addressed the man with a grim expression, her body tensed. But he merely smiled and said, "Ms. Powell, you destroyed my family. So, I'm going to play a little roulette with you." He raised the gun slightly and continued, "I have seven shots in total. Each time, you get to choose who the gun is pointed at. Will you choose your fiancé, or your lover?" My heart dropped to my stomach. I could already guess how this would end. Sinead's expression remained icy, but she slowly turned her gaze toward me. "Let's begin with the first shot." The man raised the gun. "Ms. Powell, who will take the first shot?" "Elijah." Chapter 8 Elijah's POV The moment the words left her lips, a bullet struck my shoulder. "Second shot." "Elijah." There were seven shots in total. By the final one, the gun was aimed directly at my heart. My body was riddled with bullet wounds, and I collapsed into a pool of blood. "Who will you choose for the final shot?" the man pressed. At last, Sinead looked at me. Our eyes met. Her red lips parted as she gave her final answer. "Elijah." With a loud bang, the bullet struck my chest, and I blacked out. … Amid the murky darkness, I could hear the steady beeping of medical equipment. I had no idea how much time had passed before I finally opened my eyes. But the first thing I saw was a bloodied corpse hanging right in front of me. It was Sammie. Every inch of her skin had been peeled from her body. Her eyes were wide open, as though she had died with unbearable grievances left unspoken. "Sammie!" I cried out with rage and grief. I jerked upright, ignoring the agonizing pain in my chest. Like a madman, I untied her body from the ceiling beam. Only then did I notice the necklace she was clutching tightly in her hand. Inside it lay a tiny handful of ashes. Tears streamed down my face. "See? I told you the soul-summoning ritual would work. Isn't Mr. Storie awake now?" Wesley's cheerful voice rang out from somewhere in front of me like a clap of thunder. I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway with Sinead beside him. The tension had eased slightly from her face. They had killed Sammie. "Why?" My voice trembled as I asked. Sinead frowned and spoke in a displeased tone. "Are you questioning me over her?" Wesley chimed in casually, "Sammie stole valuables from the estate and refused to let go of them. We've let her off easy by just peeling her skin. You wouldn't wake up, and Sinead was worried about you. So, we found a mystic to summon your soul back." Malice flickered in Wesley's eyes as he added, "She died, and you came back. Seems like she died for a good cause, right?" Before he could finish speaking, I laid Sammie down and lunged at him, sinking my teeth into his neck. Caught completely off guard, Wesley lost a chunk of flesh to my bite. "Ah!" he screamed. At the same moment, a tremendous force slammed into me. I was sent flying across the room and crashed into the wall. The pain of my cracking bones forced a mouthful of blood from my throat. Sinead was livid. "Throw him out of the Powell estate! He's not allowed back until he admits to his mistakes!" With that, she hurriedly carried the injured, screaming Wesley away. The attendants watched me timidly, too afraid to approach. I didn't let them come near me. Instead, I struggled to lift Sammie's body onto my back and slowly rose to my feet. My heart was filled with pain and hatred. The moment I stepped out of the room, the face of the woman I'd met beside the yacht suddenly appeared in my mind. I borrowed a phone and dialed the number written on the handkerchief. "I'll owe you a favor if you help me this time." A soft laugh came from the other end. "Alright. I'll help you." The call ended. Carrying Sammie's lifeless body on my back, I began walking toward the exit, one painful step at a time. A black Rolls-Royce pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing a face that seemed vaguely familiar. Still carrying Sammie, I climbed into the car. As we drove away, I turned to watch the Powell estate grow smaller through the window until it finally disappeared from sight. The road out of the Powell family had been paved with blood. After ten long years, I was free at last.