CHAPTER 119: BEATEN

Violet didn’t get to finish her sentence before Fiona closed the distance between them in an instant, appearing right in front of her face as if she’d teleported.

Fiona’s hands wrapped tightly around Violet’s neck, squeezing hard enough to cut off her air. Violet gasped, choking as she was tossed to the ground with a force that made her head spin.

"Fi–Fiona!" Violet sputtered, coughing violently, her voice raspy and strained. Her fingers instinctively reached for her neck, already certain that Fiona’s bruising grip would leave visible marks. She glared up at her attacker, defiance flickering behind her fear.

"Are you crazy? Cain will never let this go!" Violet snapped, her voice trembling yet still carrying a sharp edge. She had no idea where her sudden burst of confidence came from, but she clung to it desperately.

"If you get out now, I can—"

"Oh, for fuck’s sake, shut up!" Fiona barked, her voice dripping with venom. Her eyes burned with pure hatred as she stared down at Violet.

"The plan was to kill you, but even now that I’ve decided to keep you alive, you’re still testing my patience. Maybe I should have just let you drink the tea," Fiona muttered under her breath, her tone laced with contempt as she turned toward the door.

Violet’s breath hitched at Fiona’s words. Her eyes darted toward the table, focusing on the cup of tea Fiona had poured earlier. The realization that it had likely been poisoned made her blood run cold.

She tried to steady her voice as panic clawed at her chest. "If you aren’t going to kill me, then at least—" Violet’s words cut off as Fiona abruptly turned back to her.

With terrifying speed, Fiona stalked over and struck Violet across the face with enough force to send her sprawling onto the floor.

Once. Twice. The third hit felt like a punch, sharp and bone-rattling, making Violet’s head snap to the side. Blood filled her mouth, spilling from her lips and dripping from her nose.

Violet lay there, stunned and trembling. Pain radiated from her swollen face as her mind struggled to process what had just happened. She raised a shaky hand to her mouth, staring at the red smear on her fingers.

Her anger and disbelief mingled with raw fear as she lifted her gaze to Fiona, who was already preparing to strike again. Violet instinctively raised her arms to shield her face, but Fiona was relentless.

Her attacks became more frenzied, clawing at Violet’s face like she had a personal vendetta against it. Violet’s screams and cries for mercy filled the room, but Fiona paid no attention, consumed by her fury.

Just as Fiona contemplated breaking one of Violet’s hands to stop her futile resistance, a soft knock echoed at the door. The sound brought her to a sudden halt.

Fiona straightened, smoothing her disheveled dress with practiced precision. She adjusted her expression, masking the fury that had consumed her moments ago, and walked to the door with deliberate calm.

Violet, left gasping on the floor, felt the cold seeping into her battered body. Her face throbbed painfully, and her head pounded as though it might split open. Tears streaked down her swollen cheeks as she struggled to breathe.

Desperation clawed at her chest. She needed to escape, but every ounce of strength seemed drained from her body.

Her head snapped up as Fiona opened the door, revealing two young men—servants who exuded an unsettling aura. Violet’s faint hope for salvation evaporated when she saw how they deferred to Fiona, their loyalty evident in their posture.

"Take him," Fiona ordered, her voice cool and commanding. "Make sure his scent is untraceable. If you fail, Cain will find you."

She gestured toward Violet without sparing her another glance, as though disposing of her was as trivial as discarding trash.

"Feel free to have some fun, but first, break all his fingers. Cut them off if you want," Fiona added, her tone as casual as if she were giving instructions on how to fold laundry.

Violet’s stomach twisted violently. She turned to the servants, desperate to find some trace of humanity in their faces, but their cruel smirks only deepened her terror.

"If that’s what you want," one of them said, his voice dripping with malice. "It’ll be nice to taste something that’s only been reserved for the Lord."

"I’ve never slept with a man before," the other added with a twisted grin, "but I’m sure I’ll enjoy it."

Violet’s entire body trembled. Her stomach churned with nausea as bile rose in her throat. Tears streamed down her face as she begged, her voice cracking with desperation.

"Fiona, please! You can’t do this! Cain will never forgive you!" Violet cried, her voice rising in pitch as the servants closed in.

Fiona tilted her head, watching Violet with an air of detached amusement.

"Fucking listen to me! I’ll do anything you want! If you want Cain, you can have him!" Violet screamed, her words tumbling out in a frantic rush.

The thought of what these men would do to her was too horrifying to fully comprehend. She clung to the sliver of hope that her pleas might sway Fiona.

Fiona sighed theatrically, her dress swaying with each exaggerated motion as she stepped closer. "Begging suits you, Violet," she said, her lips curling into a mocking smile.

Violet’s heart pounded violently against her ribcage. "I can leave right now! Just let me go, and I’ll walk out the gate—"

"I might have considered that option," Fiona interrupted, her voice turning cold and sharp. "But you insulted me—to my fucking face—and for that, you’ll pay."

Turning back to the servants, Fiona issued her final command. "Knock him out. Take him to the basement—or anywhere Cain won’t be able to find him. Strip him. Do whatever you want."

Violet’s eyes widened in sheer terror. She opened her mouth to scream, to beg, to plead for her life, but before a sound could escape, one of the servants struck her hard on the back of the head.

Pain exploded in her skull, sharp and blinding, before everything went black.