Chapter 51: Remnants of the Storm
The wet asphalt reflected the dim glow of the streetlights. Inside the speeding car, the sharp scent of gunpowder and blood hung heavy in the air. Xavier tightened his grip on Agatha. He ignored the blood seeping from the wound on his own arm and the dull ache in his chest from the earlier explosion. To him, the weight of Agatha’s body as it began to grow cold in his embrace was far more terrifying than his own life.
"Xavier, you are holding me too tight. I can hardly breathe," Agatha whispered, her voice rasping.
Xavier loosened his arms slightly, but he kept his chin pressed against the top of Agatha’s head, which was still coated in dust. "Stay quiet. I just need to make sure you do not disappear."
"I am not going anywhere, you idiot. But look at my dress. This satin cost a fortune, and now it looks no better than a floor rag," Agatha grumbled. She tried to shift her shoulder, but a sharp sting shot straight through her spine.
Xavier took a long, shaky breath. He stared at Agatha’s pale face, which still held that familiar look of annoyance. "I will buy you the entire clothing store tomorrow morning. Stop worrying about the fabric."
"It is not just the dress. My hair is a mess. I smell terrible. This is truly ruining my appearance; this is the worst I have looked in my entire career as a hitwoman," Agatha continued. She kept complaining even though her eyes remained closed and her breath was shallow.
Xavier did not answer. He simply squeezed Agatha’s cold fingers. The car swerved into a hidden high iron gate. This was not a public hospital. Xavier directed the driver to his private mansion located far from the city center. There, Dr. Pierre was already waiting.
When the car stopped, the door was immediately pulled open by a guard. Xavier carried Agatha out at once. He did not wait for any assistance. His strides were wide even though his legs felt heavy from the deep abrasions.
"Master Xavier, the doctor is upstairs," a guard said with a low bow.
Xavier entered the medical room that had been prepared. Dr. Pierre stood there with a face as white as a sheet. The old doctor’s hands shook as he organized the medical tools on the stainless steel table. When he saw Xavier enter covered in blood with eyes like cold steel, Dr. Pierre swallowed hard. He bowed so low his forehead almost touched the floor.
"Master Xavier, please forgive the delay in my preparations," Dr. Pierre said, his voice trembling violently.
Xavier placed Agatha on the medical bed with extreme care. He then turned and glared at Dr. Pierre. "Do not talk too much. Treat her now. If she feels even a spark of pain because of your incompetence, you know what will happen."
Dr. Pierre broke into a cold sweat despite the air conditioning. He approached the bed with very hesitant steps. "Yes, Master. I will do my best. With your permission, I must clean the wound first."
"Just do it! Why must you ask for my permission?" Xavier barked.
Dr. Pierre flinched. He quickly grabbed a bottle of antiseptic. His hand holding the cotton swab was visibly unstable. Agatha opened her eyes slightly at the sight.
"Pierre, do not be so tense. You look like you might faint before you even touch me," Agatha said with a weak, mocking tone.
"Forgive me, Madam. I just... I will begin immediately," Dr. Pierre replied. He glanced nervously at Xavier, who stood right by the bed with his arms crossed, eyes tracking every single movement the doctor made.
"Xavier, sit over there. You are terrifying this doctor and it is making him slow," Agatha complained again.
"I am staying right here," Xavier replied coldly.
Dr. Pierre began cleaning the wound on Agatha’s waist. He did it very slowly, as if he were touching a bomb that could explode at any second. Every time Agatha winced slightly, Dr. Pierre would stop immediately and look at Xavier with a face full of pure terror.
"Keep going, do not stop," Xavier commanded with a threatening edge.
"Yes, Master. Yes," Dr. Pierre replied quickly. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve before continuing the stitches on Agatha’s waist.
At the main mansion, the atmosphere was different. Melynda stood in the middle of the ruined garden. The scent of corrosive gas still lingered in the air, carried by the night wind. She watched Frans giving instructions to the other men to clear the scattered bodies.
"Madam, everything is under control. Vargo’s surviving troops have been gathered in the truck," Frans reported. He wiped soot from his face.
Melynda nodded slowly. "What about Vargo?"
"He is alive, Madam. But his condition is miserable. The electricity burned most of the nerves in his hands and the gas damaged his lungs. He keeps coughing up blood," Frans answered.
"Take him to the deepest basement. Do not give him any medicine. Let him feel every inch of that pain until Xavier arrives to meet him," Melynda ordered. Her voice was flat and devoid of mercy.
"What about this mansion? The damage is severe," Frans asked, pointing at the walls riddled with bullet holes.
"Call our private renovation team. I want this cleaned before dawn. Not a single trace of blood should remain on this marble. I will follow Xavier to the private mansion now," Melynda said.
Frans bowed respectfully. "Understood, Madam. I will escort you there after ensuring Vargo is locked away properly."
Back at the private mansion, Dr. Pierre had just finished the last stitch on Agatha’s waist. He then turned toward Xavier, who was still standing tall despite his torn satin shirt.
"Master Xavier, with your permission, your arm also needs treatment. The wound is deep and there might be glass shards inside," Dr. Pierre said in a very soft voice, almost a whisper.
Xavier glanced at his own arm as if it were not part of his body. "Just a small scratch. No need."
"Xavier, do not be stubborn. Sit in that chair now or I will not eat the omelet you make tomorrow morning," Agatha threatened from her bed.
Xavier looked at Agatha for a moment, then he let out a long sigh. He walked to the wooden chair in the corner and sat down. Dr. Pierre immediately approached with a tray of medical tools. As the doctor touched Xavier’s arm, he could feel the heavy, cold aura radiating from the man in front of him.
"Be quick about it. I do not have much time for this," Xavier said.
"Yes, Master. This might sting a bit as I pull out the shards," Dr. Pierre said. He worked with extreme caution, not daring to make any unnecessary movements.
After a few minutes that felt like an eternity to Dr. Pierre, the treatment was finally finished. The old doctor scrambled to pack his tools with very quick movements, seemingly desperate to leave the room.
"Madam Agatha needs total rest. I have provided painkillers and antibiotics. I will be in the next room if there is an emergency," Dr. Pierre said while bowing to Xavier and Agatha before finally disappearing behind the door.
Xavier stood up and walked back to Agatha’s bedside. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his wife who now looked much cleaner, though still very pale.
"Go to sleep. You have talked too much tonight," Xavier whispered.
"Do not go anywhere right now, Xavier. You are also weak. I could feel your hand shaking when you held me earlier," Agatha said. She gripped the edge of Xavier’s shirt with her weak fingers.
Xavier went silent. He did not expect Agatha to notice such a small detail. "I will wait until you fall asleep. After that, I have business to settle."
"Vargo is not going anywhere. He is already broken," Agatha said. She closed her eyes, feeling a wave of exhaustion from the mild sedative.
"He will not run. But I want him to know exactly who is going to end his life," Xavier replied in a very low, cold voice.
"Do not go anywhere, Xavier," Agatha said coldly, her tone carrying a clear threat.
"Fine," Xavier said in resignation, staying quietly by Agatha’s side.
Agatha did not reply again. Her breathing became steady and slow. Xavier continued to sit there, guarding his wife in the silence of the long night. He gently brushed Agatha’s forehead, cleaning the last remnants of dust.
Melynda and Frans arrived at the private mansion not long after. They met Xavier outside the medical room.
"Is Agatha asleep?" Melynda asked.
"Yes. Pierre has treated her. She needs a lot of rest," Xavier replied. He turned to Frans. "Is Vargo in place?"
"Yes, Xav. He is in the basement of this mansion," Frans reported.
Xavier nodded with satisfaction. He glanced at the door where Agatha was sleeping one last time before walking toward the basement stairs.
"Frans, follow me. Mother, please watch over Agatha. Do not let anyone in without my permission," Xavier commanded.
Xavier walked down the cold, damp concrete stairs. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the silent corridor. At the end of the hall was a thick iron door guarded by two fully armed men. As the door opened, the smell of metallic blood and sweat rushed out.
Vargo hung by chains, his hands covered in severe burns. His head was bowed, and the sound of his breathing was like tearing paper. Xavier stood directly in front of the massive man. He picked up a small scalpel he had taken from Dr. Pierre’s table earlier.
"You chose the wrong opponent, Vargo," Xavier said in a very calm voice filled with hatred.
Vargo tried to lift his head. His bloodshot eyes met Xavier’s with a flickering remnant of defiance. "Valois... you... will... die..."
Xavier was not offended. Instead, he smiled, a smile that looked terrifying under the dim yellow light. "Perhaps. But tonight, I am the one who plays god for you."
Xavier brought the scalpel close to Vargo’s neck. He did not cut immediately. He just pressed it slightly, letting the sharp edge create a thin red line on Vargo’s skin.
"Do not let him faint, Frans. I want him to feel every inch of what he did to Agatha tonight," Xavier ordered without looking back.
"Got it, Xav," Frans replied from the corner of the room.
That night, in the darkness of the basement, Vargo’s screams began to echo even though they were muffled by the thick concrete walls. Upstairs, Agatha remained in a deep sleep, unaware that her husband was settling the most intrusive grudge of their lives.