Chapter 217
Devin let out a sarcastic laugh, fully aware he couldn't get too close to the window. Taking a step back, he used the wall for cover. With a swift motion, he flung two knives from behind his waist, embedding them in front of Kellan and Colton.
"I get a kick out of watching you high-and-mighty types squirm!" he sneered, his lips curling into a mock smile. "Aren't you worried about those two women? How about you prove you're serious? Go ahead, stab yourself in the leg to show me some sincerity. Or else…" He took a deliberate step forward, pressing a knife against the rope. Just a little more pressure, and it would snap.
Melany's sharp scream cut through the tension. She was convinced the rope was about to break. "Colton, help me! Please!" Her panicked cries only fed Devin's twisted satisfaction.
"Shut up!" Devin barked cruelly. He turned back to the two men, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "If you don't do what I say, you'll be picking up their boiled bodies!" Devin's eyes flicked between Colton and Kellan, savoring their discomfort. There was something perversely satisfying about watching these so-called golden boys crumble beneath him.
Colton's eyes darted to the knives. "Quit playing," he said. "If it's money you want, just say it!" His voice cracked with genuine fear for Melany's life. Yet, even in the grip of a life-or-death situation, Colton's gaze kept sliding toward Allison.
Unlike Melany, who screamed in terror, Allison stood still, calm as ever. Colton liked to believe he loved Melany, but when it came to plunging a blade into his own flesh, he hesitated—a hesitation he couldn't explain.
Devin noticed the hesitation. His sneer deepened. "So, the mighty Mr. Stevens is scared after all. What's it gonna be? Or should I send both these lovely ladies straight to hell?" Devin started cutting through the ropes without hesitation.
"Stop!" Kellan's voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it." Without a flicker of doubt, Kellan bent down, picked up a knife, and drove it into his leg. Blood welled up instantly. A bead of sweat slid down his brow, but his face remained unreadable. His mind raced through long-buried memories of his younger brother, killed by the mafia. The past and present blurred, but Kellan knew one thing: he wouldn't let Allison get hurt, not again. Pain was a minor inconvenience if it meant keeping her safe.
"Kellan…" Allison's voice trembled slightly, her eyes wide in disbelief. She watched him—the man in the wheelchair, his hair slick with sweat, yet his gaze never wavered. His eyes, intense as ever, seemed to say, No need to worry.
Seeing Kellan's resolve, Colton was momentarily stunned, his breath catching. The sight of blood, and Melany's tear-filled eyes clinging to his every movement, pushed Colton to his breaking point. He gritted his teeth and, in one swift motion, plunged the knife into his leg.
"There," Colton rasped, clutching the wound as pain shot through him like fire. "Now will you let them go?" His face turned pale, his body trembling, but he refused to scream, biting down hard against the agony.
"Colton!" Melany's desperate sobs echoed around the room.
Allison exhaled slowly, her breath heavy with thought. She closed her eyes briefly, reflecting on the situation. Devin, though volatile and unpredictable, was also sharp once his temper cooled. The way he used the wall for cover, shielding himself from any unforeseen danger, proved his calculating instincts. Her plan to buy time for the sniper was now a lost cause. She needed a different angle, something more manipulative. She had to get Devin to lower his guard. And with men like him, their ego was often their greatest weakness.
Allison bowed her head, sighing deeply, as if burdened with regret. "Devin, I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have done what I did. We grew up together. Can't you let this one slide, just this once?" Her face shifted into one of genuine fear. "The oils are so hot… I'm scared, Devin. Please… just let me go. I'll agree to whatever you want, right here, in front of everyone. I swear."
A triumphant grin spread across Devin's face, his expression lighting up with sadistic glee. "Finally scared, huh?" he sneered, savoring every word. The bitter seed of resentment he had carried since he first saw Allison had blossomed into something dark and twisted. He could still remember the humiliation—the girl he had once tormented now standing above him, stronger and untouchable. But hearing her break and beg scratched that deep itch for revenge. Satisfaction, however perverse, coursed through him.
"Well, at least you've finally come to your senses. But you sure held out a while, didn't you? All this time, standing your ground, and now here you are, begging at my feet. Too bad! Still doing it for that lover of yours, huh? What's the matter? Feeling sorry for him now?" The venom in his voice was palpable, each word laced with simmering fury. "Fine. I'll save you for last. But before we get to that, maybe a little lesson is in order. Didn't you cut off one of my fingers? Now it's your turn to feel the same."
In his growing anger, Devin's caution slipped. His thirst for retribution eclipsed his need for control. He muttered under his breath, almost to himself, "No, cutting it off would be too quick. I'll crush your fingers. Piece by piece!" His eyes darkened, and with a swift movement, he reached for a hammer lying on the floor.
But just as his hand closed around it, something shifted. Kellan, the man who had been sitting silently, seemingly helpless, rose from his wheelchair. Colton stood frozen in disbelief, unable to process what was happening. His mind raced, trying to reconcile the scene before him. Wasn't Kellan supposed to be crippled? …