Chapter 131

Chapter 131

Brandon stared at that familiar name on the list, a vein pulsing violently at his temple.

He'd been played for a fool—for three whole years—by a scheming woman and a money-grubbing subordinate!

A tidal wave of hatred surged through his chest. Brandon wanted nothing more than to tear Elizabeth limb from limb.

Alex stood by the bed, looking down at him with cold detachment. "Brandon, if Elizabeth is a complete fraud, shouldn't you use your brain for once? Back then in Luminous City, with how utterly selfish she is, do you really think she would've rushed out to push you out of harm's way in a life-or-death moment?"

The words struck like lightning.

Brandon's whole body went rigid. Of course—Elizabeth had tried to take his life. How could she possibly have risked her own to save him in that car accident?

"Find out!" Brandon's eyes turned bloodshot, like a rabid beast. He roared at his bodyguards, "Get every single frame of surveillance footage from that street in Luminous City restored! Track down every witness from back then. I don't care if it costs a hundred million—dig up the truth!"

Under the absolute power of capital, the truth couldn't stay buried forever.

Two days later, a top-secret restored video and witness testimonies were delivered into Brandon's hands.

Though the footage was grainy, it showed everything clearly. That day, in the middle of a snowstorm, Scarlett's car had lost its brakes and was heading straight for him as he stood by the roadside. One second before impact, Scarlett had wrenched the steering wheel with all her strength, sending the car veering off course and slamming hard into a nearby lamppost.

Elizabeth had simply been passing by. The tail end of the car had knocked her to the ground. She'd never pushed him out of the way at all—she'd just seized the opportunity and stolen credit for saving his life.

The one who'd been willing to die to save him was Scarlett.

The hospital room fell deathly silent.

Brandon stared at the screen, tears streaming down his face. Then he let out a laugh—bleak, agonized, his whole body shaking.

Crying and laughing at once.

He'd trampled his true savior underfoot, tormented her until she was broken and bleeding. Meanwhile, he'd elevated a vicious fraud to the status of benefactor and kept her in luxury for three years.

"Elizabeth..." Brandon ground out through clenched teeth, his eyes burning with hellfire. Every word seemed torn from his bones. "I swear, I'll make you pay with your life."

Sirens and dark currents tore apart Phoenix City's night.

Brandon didn't waste another second in that hospital bed.

He yanked the IV needle from his hand, ignored the doctor's protests, and turned his hospital room into a makeshift command center.

He issued a death order to the head of his security team.

Fifty million dollars went up as a bounty on the dark web. Target: Elizabeth only.

The terms were brutally simple. Bring her in alive, or bring back her corpse.

Imperial City's underworld erupted.

Gangs, mercenaries, bounty hunters—everyone operating in the gray zones smelled blood in the water. They swarmed out, locking down every port, airport, and interstate highway in Imperial City.

Meanwhile, the purge began with ruthless efficiency.

The chief assistant tried to flee through the airport using a forged passport.

He'd barely cleared security when two suited bodyguards slammed him to the ground, threw a black hood over his head, and shoved him into an unmarked black SUV.

Long Island Estate, basement level.

The soundproofing here was excellent. The air reeked of mold from years without sunlight.

Brandon sat in a leather chair shrouded in shadow, his black shirt collar open, the bandage on his forehead seeping fresh crimson. He watched expressionlessly as his assistant Kevin was hoisted into the air.

The bodyguards worked with brutal professionalism.

No wasted words. A tactical baton shattered Kevin's kneecap first, then they started pulling out fingernails.

Screams echoed through the sealed basement, piercing and raw.

In less than ten minutes, Kevin's psychological defenses crumbled completely.

"I'll talk! Mr. Robinson, I'll tell you everything!" Blood covered Kevin's body, cold sweat and tears streaming down. "It was Elizabeth... she seduced me!"

Brandon's gaze remained cold as iron. He didn't speak.

Kevin shook like a leaf, words spilling out in a frantic confession. "Three years ago, you sent me to investigate the Luminous City car accident. I got the real vehicle maintenance records—it really was Elizabeth who bribed someone to cut the brake lines on Mrs. Robinson's car. But that night, Elizabeth came to my apartment in her nightgown..."

Kevin swallowed hard, his voice thick with terror and regret. "She gave me three million dollars, and... and she came on to me. I was out of my mind—I couldn't resist, I slept with her. After that, I was hers."

"She had me intercept all evidence against her. I burned the real report on the Luminous City accident and replaced it with her forged version. Her leg injury recovery records—I paid off the doctors to erase those too."

"For three years, she deliberately fed you information about Mrs. Robinson getting close to Alex, just to drive a wedge between you. She wanted to force Mrs. Robinson out so she could become your wife."

Brandon's breathing grew heavy. He'd been blindfolded like an idiot by these two for three years. For a lying whore, he'd personally pushed the woman he loved most into an abyss.

"What else?" Brandon's voice seemed to drift up from the depths of hell, thick with killing intent.

Kevin was so terrified he wet himself. Desperate to save his own skin, he threw out what he thought was his last bargaining chip.

"There's... there's Mrs. Robinson's miscarriage in Shadow City." Kevin was sobbing now. "That wasn't an accident! Elizabeth had me contact the local gang in Shadow City. She paid off the doctor at that illegal clinic. Her exact words were—absolutely do not let Scarlett give birth to the Robinson family's child. She wanted both mother and baby dead on the operating table!"

The air in the basement seemed to vanish in that instant.

A roar filled Brandon's head. The last thread of his sanity snapped.

His child.

Brandon stood up.

Without a word, he walked to a nearby metal table and picked up a military tactical knife.

"Mr. Robinson! Mr. Robinson, please have mercy! I'll return all the money, I'll never—"

Brandon didn't give him a chance to beg.

He walked up to Kevin, his eyes terrifyingly vacant. His wrist turned. The blade precisely and viciously sliced across Kevin's carotid artery.

Blood sprayed instantly, splattering across Brandon's cold face.

Kevin's eyes bulged. A gurgling, gasping sound came from his throat. His body convulsed violently a few times, then went still.

Brandon dropped the bloody knife and took a white towel from a bodyguard, methodically wiping the blood from his hands.

"Clean up the body." Brandon's cold command hung in the air as he turned and walked up the stairs.

Phoenix City, Alex's duplex apartment.

Scarlett sat on the couch, watching Brandon return.

He carried a faint scent of blood.

Brandon placed a voice recorder on the table and pressed play.

Kevin's deathbed confession filled the living room.

Brandon walked over to her and dropped to one knee.

He looked up at her pale face, his eyes brimming with anguish and regret.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry." Those few words came out with excruciating difficulty, each one bleeding.

Scarlett didn't look at him. She just stared at the recorder, her chest heaving violently.

"Elizabeth ran, but I've locked down all of Imperial City. She can't escape." Brandon's voice was low and hoarse as he laid all his cards on the table. "When Alex showed me the evidence earlier, I didn't immediately call the police—not because I wanted to protect her."

Scarlett finally turned her head, looking at him coldly.

Brandon's eyes were dark, revealing the ruthlessness of a capitalist. "Even if I handed the evidence to the police, she'd get life in prison at most—maybe even get the sentence reduced through her legal team. That's too easy for her."

He looked directly into Scarlett's eyes, his tone resolute. "I want her in our hands. From now on, Elizabeth's life is yours to do with as you please. However you want to torture her, however you want to make her wish she were dead—I'll cover for you."

Scarlett let out a cold laugh, her eyes burning with hatred. "She's already gone. What's the point of saying all this?"

"She ran. But her mother's still here."

Brandon stood up.

The power of capital revealed itself in full force at that moment.

He mobilized the Robinson Group's top-tier political connections in Imperial City. A forged medical transfer document and special judicial authorization were issued immediately.

That same night.

Imperial City Upper State Women's Prison.

Helen was still in her cell, dreaming about Elizabeth becoming Mrs. Robinson and getting her out of this place.

Several guards suddenly opened the iron door, threw a black hood over her head without a word, and forced her into a black prison transport van.

Two hours later, Helen was thrown into the basement of Long Island Estate.

The hood was ripped off.

Harsh fluorescent lights temporarily blinded her.

When her eyes adjusted and she saw her surroundings and the person standing before her, she screamed.

Scarlett wore a white lab coat, carrying her usual portable medical kit.

Brandon stood in the shadows. Bodyguards waited outside. In the basement, only the two women remained.

"Scarlett? What the hell are you doing, you little bitch! Where is this!" Helen was strapped tightly to an iron chair but still shrieking stupidly. "My daughter's about to become part of the Robinson family! If you touch me, Elizabeth will never let you go!"

Scarlett looked at that shrill, vicious face.

This was the woman who'd cut her brake lines in Luminous City. This woman had played her part in Elizabeth's three-year charade.

Scarlett didn't waste words.

She opened the medical kit and pulled on latex gloves.

Scarlett picked up a sharp scalpel and walked toward Helen.

"Your daughter is now the most wanted fugitive in all of Imperial City." Scarlett's voice was soft, yet cold enough to freeze bone and blood. "She not only tried to kill me—she murdered my child."

Helen froze, then struggled frantically. "You're lying! Elizabeth would never do that! Let me go!"

Scarlett's eyes flashed. The blade came down.

"Ahhh—!"

The scalpel precisely sliced open the flesh of Helen's thigh.

Scarlett was a top surgeon. She knew human anatomy inside out.

This cut perfectly avoided the major artery but severed the most sensitive pain nerves.

Blood gushed out instantly, staining Helen's prison uniform crimson.

Helen let out a pig-like squeal, her whole body convulsing in agony.

"This cut is payback for the terror I felt in Luminous City." Scarlett's face showed no emotion as she pulled out gauze and roughly pressed it against the wound.

Then she grabbed a bottle of high-concentration medical alcohol and poured it directly onto the torn flesh.

"AHHH!! Help! Murder!" Helen's eyes rolled back, nearly passing out from the pain.

"Want to faint? Not that easy." Scarlett pulled out a syringe of high-dose adrenaline and jabbed it straight into Helen's neck.

The drug took effect instantly. Helen was forced into extreme alertness, her pain receptors amplified infinitely.

Scarlett raised the scalpel again.

"This cut is payback for my unborn child."

The blade flashed and plunged into Helen's shoulder, twisting viciously.

The basement echoed with blood-curdling screams.

Scarlett worked like an emotionless executioner.

The hatred in her heart had been suppressed too long. Now, finally, she'd found an outlet.

Cut after cut.

Avoiding vital organs. Choosing maximum pain.

Helen went from cursing viciously to begging pitifully, until finally she didn't even have the strength to beg—only weak whimpers escaped her.

She was covered in blood, flesh hanging in tatters. The torture had left her barely alive, clinging to her last breath.

Scarlett stopped.

She looked at the half-dead Helen, stripped off the blood-soaked latex gloves, and tossed them carelessly on the floor.

This was just interest on the debt.

The real blood debt—Elizabeth would pay that herself.