Chapter 159: KILL OWN FATHER

Scarlet's POV

Everything slowed.

I felt the sharp, cold steel of the blade slice across my skin, the warmth of my own blood seeping down my neck. My breath hitched, my body trembling, and for a second, I thought-this was it.

This was how I was going to die.

Alex's roar shook the walls, his cries filled with agony. I wanted to look at him, to tell him I wasn't scared, but my body was weak, drained from the blood loss. My vision blurred, my knees gave way, and I collapsed onto the cold floor.

Then-chaos erupted.

A deafening crash rang through the room. A body slammed against the ground, followed by the clattering of weapons. Men shouted, fists landed, and through my hazy sight, I saw someone charge into the room like a storm.

Alex's uncle.

His presence was like a force of nature, his fury evident in every blow he landed. His men flooded the space, engaging Alex's father's guards, taking them down with calculated precision.

My breathing was shallow, my heartbeat weak, but I forced my eyes open, struggling to stay conscious.

Alex's uncle moved like a beast unleashed, his fists pummeling into Alex's father without mercy. The sound of bones cracking echoed in the room, but the man still laughed.

Mocking.

Always mocking.

"You think this will change anything?" Alex's father spat, blood dripping from his mouth. His face was bruised, swollen, yet his eyes gleamed with amusement. "You're all fools. Killing me won't erase the past. It won't undo what's already done."

Alex's uncle didn't hesitate-he struck him again, sending him crashing against the floor.

"This is for my sister," he growled, his rage unrelenting. "For everything you took from her. For the son you poisoned with your lies. For the family you destroyed."

Alex's father coughed, smirking even through the pain. "And yet, I still won."

I could barely process his words, but I could feel the tension in the room shift.

He wasn't afraid.

Even in his final moments, he was proud of what he had done.

A true monster. Everything in the room was moving too fast. My body ached, my vision blurred, but I forced myself to stay focused. I couldn't let my pain distract me-not now.

Alex had been freed, and the moment he gained his strength, he lunged at his father. His movements were raw, fueled by years of built-up rage, pain, and betrayal.

His father didn't even flinch. He just smirked, as if he had expected this.

"You think this changes anything, boy?" his father sneered as he dodged Alex's first punch. "You think you can rewrite history?"

Alex didn't answer with words-his fist connected with his father's jaw, sending him stumbling back. But instead of anger, his father only laughed, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

"Just like your mother," he taunted, shaking his head. "So stubborn. So disobedient. Always getting in my way."

I froze.

I saw it then-the way Alex's entire body stiffened, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

His father knew exactly what he was doing. He was provoking him.

"She thought she could escape me too, you know," his father continued, his tone almost casual, as if he were reminiscing about an old memory. "She thought I would let her go. But no one disrespects me, Alex. Not her. Not you. Not that pathetic girl you're trying to protect."

My stomach twisted at his words, but I barely had time to process the disgust before something else caught my attention.

The dagger.

Alex's father was shifting his weight slightly, his gaze flickering toward the ground where the dagger had fallen just a few feet away.

He was trying to get to it.

I had seconds to react.

Before I could think, I pushed through the pain in my body and rushed forward.

With everything I had left, I kicked him away from the dagger, sending him stumbling backward. My legs wobbled beneath me, but I forced myself to move. I grabbed the weapon before he could, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Scarlet!" Alex called out, but my mind was racing too fast to respond.

I had the dagger. I could stop this. I could end this.

But before I could make a decision, Alex was in front of me, his large hand wrapping around mine, pulling the dagger from my grip.

I looked up at him, eyes wide.

His breathing was uneven, his face a mess of blood and sweat. But his gaze wasn't on me.

It was locked on his father.

And there was nothing but raw, burning hatred in his eyes.

For the first time, I saw it.

Alex wasn't just angry. He was ready to kill.

The dagger was firm in his grip, the sharp blade gleaming under the dim light. His father straightened, chuckling darkly as he stared at the weapon now pointed at his chest.

"Go on," he dared. "Do it."

Silence filled the room.

I felt my heart pounding against my ribcage, my breaths shallow.

Would he?

Would Alex really kill him?

I knew how much pain this man had caused. I knew what he had taken from him, what he had taken from both of us.

But I also knew Alex.

He wasn't his father.

He wasn't a monster.

"Alex…" I whispered, my fingers brushing against his wrist.

He didn't move. His grip on the dagger remained tight, his jaw clenched, his entire body tense.

I could see the war raging inside him.

"Do it," his father taunted again, his lips curling into a smirk. "Prove you're my son."

Alex's breath hitched.

I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

He wanted this. He had every reason to want this.

But if he did it…

If he killed his father now, he would never be the same.

He would become the man he had spent his entire life trying not to be.

"Alex, please," I begged, my voice trembling. "You're better than him."

His hands shook. His chest rose and fell rapidly.