Chapter 433

In an abandoned warehouse, the thick smell of paint stung Maeve's eyes. Machines buzzed ominously, filling the space with a low, constant hum. She was yanked by the hair and thrown to the ground, her knee scraping hard against the rough floor. Blood trickled down. Maeve held back a cry, refusing to show weakness.

"Hard to believe that spineless Henry fathered such a tough daughter," one of the men sneered. "Years ago, your father promised to share the jewelry with us, then ran off with it. Since you're his daughter, you must know where the rest is hidden."

Maeve clenched her fists, forcing herself to think despite the pain in her knee. She knew she couldn't overpower them; the self-defense bracelet Will had modified for her had fallen off in the struggle. All she could do was stall. "Henry abandoned me over twenty years ago," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "The police already seized some of the jewelry. Only Henry knows where the rest is. I'm not the person you're looking for."

The men didn't buy it, crowding closer. "Don't waste our time with lies. Either tell us the truth, or things will get very ugly for you," one demanded.

Maeve bit her lip. "Fine. The truth is, before Henry disappeared, he sent me some packages. The jewelry was hidden in those, and it's at my house. Don't hurt me, and I'll give it all to you."

The men exchanged looks, seemingly considering it. For a moment, Maeve thought her bluff might work. But then the leader's expression darkened, and he slapped her hard.

"Think you can fool us? Lying will only make this worse!" he snarled.

Maeve's mind reeled, unsure what had given her away.

"Put her on it," the leader ordered gruffly.

Rough hands lifted her and dragged her to a wooden table, where they strapped her arms and legs with iron restraints. The buzzing sound grew louder as a switch flipped. Looking up, she saw a large chainsaw, its cold blade hovering menacingly overhead. Maeve's heart sank as the hum intensified, the saw's teeth glinting above her.

Panicked, Maeve tried to sound cooperative. "Let's not go overboard. If it's jewelry you want, I can make sure you get it. Why waste time with this? Besides, what my father stole isn't even worth it." She knew she had to keep talking, but the men were unmoved. They laughed at her fear.

"You think this is just about jewelry? Your father's betrayal put a target on your back. Since we couldn't find him, you're here to pay his debt," one of them said.

"You've got no one to blame but yourself for being born into that family," another added with a cruel grin. "So, what's it gonna be, a hand or a foot?"

Maeve's body turned numb with fear. She wanted to live. None of this was her fault. Her heart pounded as the chainsaw dropped a few more inches. She broke into a sweat, her body going numb. "Wait! Please, give me a second to think!" she cried. "I'll get you more jewelry. Just give me a moment."

Chapter 483

One of them hit the switch, the chainsaw continuing to sway above her, inching closer. Dread settled deep in her bones. Maeve stared at the chainsaw, inches from her face. Her vision began to fade, an uncontrollable fear taking over, numbing her body until she was barely conscious. The only sound she could hear was the relentless buzz of the chainsaw, drawing nearer. Her sweat-drenched forehead burned.

And then, the chainsaw stopped.

The burly men froze, feeling the cold press of a gun's black muzzle against the backs of their heads.

"Who the hell are you?" one stammered.

Byron stood in the shadows, half-hidden in a black trench coat. His narrow, dark eyes burned with terrifying intensity. When he saw Maeve unconscious on the table, his face tightened, a red glint flashing at the corners of his eyes, and his grip on the gun turned white-knuckled.

A gunshot shattered the silence. One of the burly men collapsed, clutching his ear, blood streaming from the fresh wound as he howled in pain. More shots followed, targeting their hands, each bullet met with sprays of blood and the thick, metallic scent filling the room.

The rage in Byron's chest surged, relentless and consuming. He didn't want to control it. He needed to see blood spilled to calm down.

Tom, who had come with Byron, stood nearby, watching coldly. "Leave the rest to me. I'll make sure these men rot in Blacktomb Prison. They won't see daylight again," Tom said icily, disgust in his voice. Tom had always seen Maeve as family and wouldn't let this go unpunished.

Byron said nothing, striding forward to unshackle Maeve. He lifted her gently, pressing a rare, tender kiss to her damp forehead as he carried her out of the blood-stained warehouse.

"Take her to Royal Hospital," Tom called after him. "I've already arranged everything."

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