The screen flickered to life, revealing Colt Knightwood's smug face. Behind him, I could see a crumpled figure slumped against the wall—Liam, bloodied and barely conscious.
"As promised, I have your problem under control," Colt reported, stepping aside to give a clearer view.
My heart stopped. Liam's face was nearly unrecognizable, covered in blood and bruises. His chest rose and fell in shallow, irregular movents.
"Liam!" I scread, lunging for the phone.
Uncle Corbin pulled it away, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Excellent work, Mr. Knightwood. Is he still conscious?"
"Barely," Colt replied, nudging Liam with his foot. Liam groaned but didn't move. "He put up quite a fight. Better than expected."
I felt dizzy with horror. "What have you done?" I whispered, my voice breaking.
Uncle Corbin ignored , speaking to Colt instead. "Make sure he can hear what happens next."
He turned the phone so the cara faced . "Mr. Knight, can you see us? I want you to witness this."
On the screen, Colt grabbed Liam's hair, forcing his head up toward the cara. Liam's eyes were unfocused, clouded with pain, but they widened slightly when they found my face.
"Isabelle..." he managed through bloodied lips.
Uncle Corbin smiled coldly. "Now, my dear niece, let's discuss terms."
"Terms?" I echoed, not comprehending through my shock.
"The price for his life," Uncle Corbin clarified. "It's quite simple, really. You surrender everything—your grandfather's loyal experts, your position, your rights within the family. All of it."
My hands trembled. "You can't be serious."
"I've never been more serious," he replied. "Nine Grandmasters loyal to your grandfather and you. Call them now. Order them to surrender themselves to the Veridia City Martial Guild. Erson Hols will personally oversee their arrest."
"And if I refuse?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
Uncle Corbin nodded to the screen. Colt imdiately drove his fist into Liam's stomach. Liam's body convulsed, fresh blood spraying from his mouth.
"Stop!" I scread. "Stop it!"
"That's just a taste," Uncle Corbin warned. "Refuse , and Colt will destroy his dantian. He'll live, but as nothing more than a cripple. Is that what you want?"
Tears stread down my face. "What about Grandfather? You promised to tell where he is."
"One thing at a ti," Uncle Corbin said smoothly. "Save your lover first, then we'll discuss Michael."
I felt trapped, cornered like an animal. Nine Grandmasters—my grandfather's most loyal supporters—against Liam's life. It wasn't just their freedom at stake. Without them, I would have no power base, no protection. Uncle Corbin would have complete control.
But looking at Liam's broken body, I knew I had no choice.
"If I do this," I said, my voice shaking, "you'll let him go? Unhard?"
"You have my word," Uncle Corbin promised with a smile that made my skin crawl.
I took out my phone with trembling fingers. One by one, I called the nine Grandmasters loyal to my grandfather and . Each call tore at my heart.
"Master Hols is expecting you at the Guild headquarters," I told each of them, my voice steadier than I felt. "Go quietly. Do not resist."
They questioned , of course. Demanded explanations. But in the end, they obeyed. They always had.
When the last call ended, I looked up at Uncle Corbin. "It's done."
He made another call. "Hols? Are they arriving? Good. Let know when all nine are secured." A mont later, he nodded with satisfaction. "Excellent."
Relief washed over . "Now let Liam go."
Uncle Corbin's smile widened. "About that... I'm afraid I've had a change of heart."
The world seed to tilt beneath . "What?"
"Mr. Knightwood," he said into the phone, "destroy his dantian. Leave him in an alley sowhere. If he survives, fine. If not..." He shrugged.
"No!" I scread, lunging across the desk. "You promised!"
Uncle Corbin caught my wrists easily. "Promises are tools, Isabelle. Useful until they're not."
On the screen, Colt nodded. "With pleasure, Mr. Ashworth."
Liam's eyes found mine through the cara. Despite everything, they held a fierce determination. "Isabelle," he rasped. "Don't worry about ."
"How touching," Uncle Corbin mocked. "Say goodbye, niece."
I struggled against his grip. "Please," I begged. "I'll do anything else. Anything!"
"You have nothing left to offer," he replied coldly. "Your pawns are captured. Your knight is fallen. The ga is over."
Through tears, I watched as Colt grabbed Liam by the throat, lifting him off the ground. His other hand began to glow with deadly energy.
"This might hurt a bit," Colt told Liam, positioning his glowing palm over Liam's chest—directly over his dantian, the core of his martial power.
"No!" I scread, helpless to stop what was happening.
Liam, sohow still conscious, spat blood at Colt's face. "Do your worst," he challenged. "I'll still co back for her." Thistextwasacquiredfrom*.
Colt wiped the blood away with a snarl. "Defiant to the end. It won't help you."
He drew back his hand, channeling even more energy. The glow intensified, becoming blindingly bright.
"Goodbye, Liam Knight," he said. "Ti to beco the nobody you were always ant to be."
I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. My world narrowed to that screen, to Liam's broken body and the deadly light about to destroy everything he'd fought to beco.
Colt thrust his palm forward—
And suddenly froze.
A shadow fell across the room. A tall figure stepped between Colt and Liam, catching Colt's wrist mid-strike.
"What the—" Colt began.
The newcor said nothing. With a casual twist, they snapped Colt's wrist as if breaking a twig.
Colt howled in pain, staggering backward. The phone clattered to the ground, the cara now pointing at the ceiling.
"Who dares?" Colt's voice rang out, a mixture of rage and fear.
There was no answer—only the sounds of a brief, violent struggle, then a terrible cracking noise followed by a heavy thud.
Uncle Corbin stood abruptly, his face suddenly pale. "What's happening? Knightwood! Report!"
The phone was picked up. For a mont, I glimpsed the mysterious newcor—tall, cloaked, face obscured. Then the call ended.
Uncle Corbin stared at his blank phone screen, his composure shattered. "Impossible," he whispered. "Who would dare interfere?"
I slumped in my chair, tears still flowing but now mixed with a fragile, desperate hope. Soone had intervened. Soone had saved Liam—at least for now.
"It seems your plan isn't as perfect as you thought," I said quietly.
Uncle Corbin's eyes snapped to mine, cold fury replacing his montary shock. "This changes nothing. Your precious loyalists are still in custody. You're still powerless. And your lover..." He smiled thinly. "Well, he might have a brief reprieve, but he's still broken. Who knows if he'll even survive his injuries?"
He was right. I had sacrificed everything, and for what? A montary delay in Liam's execution? My grandfather was still missing. My supporters were imprisoned. And Liam, even if alive, was gravely injured.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice barely audible.
Uncle Corbin leaned across the desk. "Because power belongs to those strong enough to take it. Your grandfather forgot that lesson. You never learned it. And that boy presud to challenge the natural order."
He straightened, adjusting his suit. "Go ho, Isabelle. Mourn if you must. But understand that from this mont forward, you exist solely by my tolerance."
I stood on shaky legs, dignity the only thing I had left. "You'll regret this," I promised quietly. "Liam will co back. And when he does, even your new allies won't be able to protect you."
Uncle Corbin laughed. "Such faith in a half-dead commoner. How the mighty Ashworth bloodline has fallen."
I turned and walked out, my back straight despite the crushing weight on my heart. I had failed Liam. Failed my grandfather. Failed myself.
But sowhere out there, a mysterious savior had intervened. And where there was intervention, there was hope.
Liam was alive. And as long as he lived, this wasn't over.
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