Chapter 37 An Eye for an Eye
The floor was cold enough to bite into her skin, pressing against her knees and elbows. Every movement pulled at open wounds, the pain sharp and unforgiving.
Alexander was gone from the private room.
In her ears, the men's voices—thick with malice and mockery—twisted into laughter and jeers. In her eyes, the lights swayed and warped, and polished leather shoes filled her vision.
The world had shrunk into a grotesque arena. She was the smallest, most dehumanized prey in it, shoved into a corner until she could barely recognize herself.
"Move faster! What, haven't you eaten?"
"Yeah, lift your ass higher! Let us all have a good look!"
"Alexander's toy is well trained… obedient."
The laughter tangled, filthy and relentless.
Caroline's mind had gone hollow. Shame had drained away, leaving only mechanical movements. She crawled because they told her to, her thoughts erased into blankness.
"Crawling's boring."
One of them, already bored, stepped into her path. He carried a glass of liquor, swaying as he blocked her way.
With the crowd urging him on, he loosened his belt.
"Come on, pet. Crawling isn't enough. You need to know how to… please."
The bald man's grin was obscene. His pants slid halfway down, exposing a greasy body as he leaned toward her face.
"Take my cock in your mouth. Serve me well and you'll get a reward."
The stench hit her like a slap.
Caroline's empty eyes tightened into focus. Revulsion shattered the last fragile wall inside her.
No. Not this. Never.
"No… don't…" She shook her head violently, jerking back, desperate to avoid that flesh closing in.
"You little bitch! You think you can refuse me?"
His anger flared. He grabbed her hair and shoved her cracked lips toward his filth.
"Mmph… no…"
"Aaah!"
The scream ripped through the room, high and inhuman, cutting the air like glass.
Everything froze. Heads turned.
The bald man's hands fell away. He looked down, disbelief twisting his face.
A silver dining knife was buried in his groin, the hilt the only part visible. Blood poured down his pants, pooling on the carpet in a spreading stain.
Silence.
All eyes snapped to the doorway.
Alexander stood there, a white silk handkerchief in his hand, wiping his fingers with slow precision.
Behind him, a wall of men in black suits had appeared, sealing every exit.
"Having fun?" Alexander's voice was cold.
"Mr. Hamilton…" Xavier was the first to recover, sweat soaking his shirt. He scrambled up, voice shaking. "This… this is a misunderstanding… we were just… joking…"
"Joking?"
Alexander's gaze swept the room, landing finally on Caroline. Her clothes were stained with liquor, her hair tangled, her body trembling. Something flickered in his eyes—gone before it could warm.
"Seems I've been too lenient with you," he said, tossing the silk onto the floor as he walked in. "You've started to think my people can be touched. Played with."
"No, no, we wouldn't dare! Mr. Hamilton, we'll never do it again!"
Xavier dropped to his knees with a thud, tears streaking his face. "We were drunk! Talking nonsense! Please, forgive us!"
"Yeah, we were wrong! We'll never—"
"It was Xavier! He started it!"
"And Carl! He made her crawl!"
The room dissolved into chaos, each man shoving blame onto another, their polished masks stripped away.
The man with the knife in him was already unconscious, bleeding out on the carpet, ignored.
Alexander looked at them with a smile as cold as ice.
He turned back to Caroline.
With the toe of his shoe, he nudged her arm—cold, shaking.
"What did they do to you?"
Caroline flinched, eyes wide. What was he going to do?
"Speak." His voice was frost.
"He… threw money at me. Hit me. Tore my clothes… poured liquor… made me crawl… someone pulled his pants down… tried to force me…"
Each word drained more color from the men's faces.
"Good." Alexander nodded, as if her cooperation pleased him.
He straightened, gestured to his men.
The guards moved instantly, dragging every man into the center of the room, forcing them to kneel before Caroline.
"How did they play with you earlier?"
From one guard's hand, Alexander took a short, heavy stick, weighed it in his palm, then tossed it onto the floor in front of her.
"Now it's your turn."
Caroline's eyes widened.
He… wanted her to hit them back?
"No… I don't want to…" She shook her head hard, tears spilling. She wanted out. She wanted it erased. No revenge. No payback.
"You don't?" His brow lifted, his gaze turning to steel.
He crouched, fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to look at the men.
"Caroline, understand this. They humiliated you. I'm giving you the chance to return it—ten times, a hundred times. That's fair."
"Or do you enjoy being on the floor? Enjoy having filth shoved in your face?"
"No! I'm not—" Her voice broke into a scream.
"Then prove it." He let her go, stepped back.
"Pick up the stick. Or use something else."
His eyes flicked toward the fruit knife on the table.
Caroline sat frozen, trembling. A stick? A knife? She couldn't. She was a doctor. She saved lives. Even hurting herself took courage—hurting someone else, even a monster, was beyond her.
"I… I can't…" She wrapped her arms around her head, sobbing until her voice tore.
Alexander's eyes went colder.
"Can't?" He repeated the word slowly.
Then he bent close, his tone soft enough to chill her to the bone.
"Funny. When you pushed Edith toward her death… you managed just fine."