Chapter 467

The moment the words left his lips, Michael’s cane came crashing down on Spencer’s back, sending a shiver through his body.

Michael’s scalp tingled with fury. “Stubborn as a mule! You don’t give a hoot about your own folks, but you’re all worried about a stranger. Your dad hit Max with the car last night, and I had to whisk him and Faith out of Beaconsfield in the dead of night. Spencer, your mom chose to leave you behind; don’t you go disappointing her.”

Spencer’s pupils shrank sharply, deflated like a punctured balloon. He stopped his ruckus about what he would do with Brielle, simply lowering his gaze and clutching the blanket in front of him with a death grip.

Growing up in a powerful family, he knew what being sent away meant. To outsiders, Michael had washed his hands of them, and keeping Spencer was just a nod to the last thread of kinship.

“You take the time to get well. Once you’re out of the hospital, I’ll find you a suitable marriage to keep you from mooning over a would–be murderer all day long.”

Spencer fell silent, and once the old man had left, he realized Alivia was still standing in the hospital room. Her face carried the same gentle smile as she poured him a glass of water from the dispenser.

“Spencer, Michael and I just came from Max’s room. He’s forgotten all about Brielle. Congrats, she’s all yours now.”

Her words treated Brielle like some cheap trinket.

Spencer was about to reach for the glass, but his hand froze mid–air at her words. “Are you certain?”

“Mmhmm, the blood clot in his head must’ve squeezed some nerves. Ever since he woke up. he’s been out of it, not a peep about Brielle.”

A flicker of wild joy crossed Spencer’s eyes, and his lips curled into a cold smirk.

Alivia patted his shoulder. “Brielle is yours to shape or shatter as you please. Max won’t interfere anymore. Once he’s healed up, he’ll be marrying me.”

“Congratulations to you, Ms. Alivia, for getting your heart’s desire.

Alivia chuckled lightly. As long as Jaired hurried things along, getting Brielle into trouble behind bars, everything would be perfect.

Alivia didn’t let Jaired snuff out Brielle’s life, not out of kindness; she wanted to drive Brielle mad and then have the crazed woman attend her wedding to Max.

Murder was mundane, but to crush a spirit was the real thrill.

In prison, Brielle curled up on the narrow cot, feeling the chill seeping through her bones. She wanted to sleep, but the pain from her wound kept her too alert.

Chacher 267 The prison medic had come once to dress her wounds, admonishing her to stay still before leaving.

Sweat poured down Brielle’s face. The sound of the iron door being knocked echoed, and then it swung open. Her blurred vision couldn’t make out the faces of those who dragged her swiftly to an abyssal cell.

Solitary confinement was a common punishment for unruly Inmates. Inside, time lost all meaning, and sanity hung by a thread.

After being unceremoniously dumped onto the cold floor, Brielle was engulfed in darkness so absolute she couldn’t even see her own fingertips. She didn’t cry out or scream; it was as if the darkness was born within her heart, becoming one with her very being.

The guards in the surveillance room watched Brielle maintain her position on the floor, puzzled. “It’s been three hours. She hasn’t begged for mercy or even opened her eyes. What’s she up to?” If Brielle was scared, her calm face certainly didn’t show it.

“Let’s just keep her there for now. Of all the people to cross, she had to anger the Riddle and Dorsey families. Both gave us the same order: take special care of her. A grown man would lose his mind after three days in the hole; she won’t last long.”

“A shame, she’s quite the looker.”

The guards, more brutish in nature, couldn’t afford to be gentle; it wouldn’t do in a place like this.

“Well, you won’t get a taste of that.”

“That remains to be seen. The Riddle family wants us to drive her mad. What do you reckon is the fastest way to drive a woman insane?”

The two guards exchanged knowing looks and fell silent.

Unaware of the brewing storm, Brielle didn’t know how long she’d be trapped in this darkness. Every time hunger clawed at her, someone would come to feed her. She didn’t even know what she was eating; she couldn’t see anything, not even a sliver of light. Her body sank into deep. fatigue as if she would sleep forever. So tired, so drowsy, every part of her felt rusty and slow. sapping her of the strength to even rise. She was certain that something extra was being added to her meals every day.

After an indeterminate length of time, she glimpsed a hazy light. She tried to move her fingers, only to find her hands restrained on either side. She looked up to see two men leering down at her, their eyes trailing over her body.

“Ms. Brielle, you’ve got quite the will. It seems we’ll need to get creative to drive you mad.”