Chapter 276

Carl writhed on the floor, his throat releasing nothing but broken whimpers.

Verena watched the rise and fall of his chest grow weaker, his body trembling as though he might collapse into unconsciousness at any second.

Luis, however, showed no signs of restraint, his fury still pouring out in merciless blows. For a moment, she feared he would kill the man outright.

Her voice cut through the chaos. "Enough."

At once, Luis stilled, freezing mid-motion at her command.

He turned slowly, veins still bulging at his temple, the remnants of rage pulsing beneath his skin.

When his eyes met Verena's, the fire inside them dimmed, smothered beneath something heavier-guilt,sorrow, self-reproach.

His heart ached knowing that his little sister had come so closeto being hurt by that monster, and the blame rested squarely on his own shoulders for not keeping her safe.

A steady breath escaped him, an attempt to rein in the storm.

"Tell me what you want done," he said, his tone softened now. "Whatever you decide, it will be carried out."

Verena's gaze sharpened, her eyes like shards of ice locked on Carl's crumpled form. He looked less like a man and more like a stray animal beaten past recognition.

Her voice dropped into a chilling calm, each word sharpened with venom. "He murdered my grandmother.He destroyed a life that should have been spared. And he left lsaac in his current state. Death is too merciful. I want himto taste a pain worse than anything he's ever inflicted."

Her glare hardened, her jaw tight with fury. "Isaac's legs were hurt, leaving him in a chair. I want Carl to share the same fate." Her teeth clenched as she spat the words and then turned to the guards flanking the room. "Break his legs.Make sure he never walks again."

The bodyguards, trained to obey without hesitation, moved in like shadows, their faces expressionless as they closed around Carl.

For the briefest moment, hope had flickered in Carl's eyes. Verena had stopped Luis' cruelty-surely it meant she still cared, that she might spare him.

But the hope was short-lived. What he received was not mercy, but a sentence colder than death.

Before he could even drag himself out of the haze of pain, a ring of bodyguards closed in tight around him.

Their fists and boots rained down with merciless precision, each strike slamming into his legs with a sickening thud, like hammers breaking rotten timber.

Agony ripped through him, sharp and unrelenting, as though molten steel needles were being driven deep into his bones. The torment crashed over him in waves, leaving him teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

His body convulsed on the floor, thrashing weakly in a hopeless attempt to crawl free, but there was no escape fromn the storm.

Amidst the chaos, his eyes sought Verena's.

Bloodshot and swollen, they glistened with raw pain, laced with confusion and disbelief.

Why?

Why would she do this to him?

Didn't she have even the slightest trace of affection for him?

Was there truly nothing left between them but venom and vengeance?

In his broken stare lingered a faint, desperate plea-some flicker of hope that she might relent, that she might show mercy at the last possible moment. But Verena's face remained an unyielding mask, her gaze sharp and frozen, unfouched by pity.

Beside her, Luis shifted slightly, his attention drawn not to Carl but to his sister. There was a flicker of astonishment in his eyes.

In his mind, Verena had always embodied the healer's vow, a doctor bound by instinct to preserve life, even the life of an enemy.

He had assumed she would falter, that hatred might shake her but never carry her far enough to deliver true punishment. His original plan had been simple-show restraint in front of her, and then dispose of Carl afterward, sparing her the cruelty.

Instead, Verena shattered every expectation.

Her decisiveness left no cracks for hesitation. She wielded her hatred with the precision of a scalpel,ruthless and absolute.

Even as Carl's gaze pleaded with her, searching for the woman he thought he knew, she remained still as stone.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Luis' mouth, his eyes glinting with pride as he looked at Verena.

She truly was his sister, a daughter of the Sampson family.

At her command, the bodyguards pressed in with merciless force, their boots striking down without hesitation.

Carl crumpled to the floor, his body curling in on itself like a broken shell.

His jaw worked soundlessly as blood spilled from his lips in violent bursts, splattering across the floor until it pooled into a bright, spreading stain.

The sharp crimson against his ghastly pallor made the scene grotesque, almost surreal.

Sweat matted his hair, plastering it to his temples and cheeks, the strands streaked with streaks of scarlet.

The polished composure he carried into the room had disintegrated completely, leaving only a wreck of a His limbs sprawled uselessly across the floor, too drained to twitch, every breath scraping through his throat like knives carving at flesh.

Vision clouded under the weight of agony, the world around him dissolving into flickering shadows.

His mind slipped further and further away, his consciousness fraying as if it were tearing free of his body,drifting toward a dark void.

Then, out of the haze, memory dragged him backward.

Once, he hadn't been Simon at all-he had been Carl.

The ruins of Clokron rose up before him once more, streets torn apart and drowned in chaos.

Smoke choked the sky, thick and acrid, clawing at his lungs until every breath seared with fire.

He remembered lying face-down on the frozen ground, dust caking his mouth and nose, every gasp a losing battle.

Blood seeped from his wounds in a steady stream, the cold stealing warmth from his body faster than he could cling to life.

In those fading moments, Carl was certain death had come for him.

And then, through the haze, he saw it-a flash of white cutting through the ruin, a figure descending like an angel into the wreckage.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, Verena had appeared in a white coat, running toward him with fierce determination, her bangs whipping in the wind.

Even blurred by ash and ruin, her eyes had shone with raw concern.

Carl still remembered the wordsthat had cut through the chaos. "Give me your hand. I'll get you out."

Her palm had reached for him without hesitation, steady and sure. That moment had pulled him back from death's edge, tearing him out of the abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

It had been the single most unforgettable instant of his lfe.

Now, as agony dragged him under once again, the memory twisted cruelly over the present.

Summoning the last shreds of his strength, Carl lifted his arm, every inch feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds, and from his shredded throat rasped a broken plea. "Evelyn... save me.."

The words were weak, pitiful, almost childlike.

Verena moved in his direction with measured steps.

The bodyguards instantly tightened their grip, forcing Carl down against the floor, unwilling to let him lash out.

His eyes locked on her figure, a flicker of hope igniting through the blood and haze.

The woman who had once pulled him back from hell would surely save him again.

But the hope shattered the moment she knelt before him. Her gaze was ice, her focus fixed not on his face A but on his legs. Slender fingers reached out, pressing firmly against his kneecap with clinical precision.

A white-hot bolt of pain shot through him, racing up his bones until it stole the air from his lungs.

His eyes flew wide, his teeth grinding together, terror bleeding through every line of his face.

He struggled instinctively, but the guards pinned him down with ease.

Expressionless, Verena shifted her weight, testing the joint beneath her hand as if she were diagnosing a patient.

Her verdict fell cold and final. "Good. He'll never walk again."

The words sank like shards of ice into Carl's chest, piercing through the last fragile thread of hope he clung to. He tilted his head back and released a long, broken cry that echoed with pain.