Chapter 114 The Torture Her Mother Chose
Caroline's pupils shrank. She stared at the dark stain on the wood. An image flashed through her mind—Edith lying in a pool of blood. Pain tore through her chest.
"Mrs. Neville's orders," the guard said flatly. "You don't get to die easy."
Out of the corner of her eye, Caroline saw the other guard pull something from his tactical bag.
An axe.
Small, with a thick, dull blade—narrow and heavy. He hadn't even bothered to sharpen it. He gripped it tight and walked around behind her.
What was he going to do?
Caroline's head snapped up. Every drop of blood seemed to rush to her head.
Terror finally broke through. She began to struggle.
Two guards lunged forward, pinning her shoulders down. She couldn't move.
The man behind her raised the axe high.
Caroline squeezed her eyes shut. 'Mom… how could you…'
The blade came down with a dull, sickening thud.
The first blow wasn't deep, but Caroline felt her skin split open. Pain shot down her spine, flooding her entire body.
Warm blood poured from the back of her neck, soaking through her collar.
She let out a muffled scream behind the tape. They shoved her forward and she collapsed.
The executioner cursed under his breath. "How many swings is this going to take?"
One of the others muttered back, "That's what Mrs. Neville wanted. She handed me the axe herself."
Caroline's vision began to darken. Her consciousness slipped.
So her mother didn't just want her dead—she wanted her to die slowly, in agony.
She had no strength left to fight.
She thought, 'Alexander… where are you? Will you come?'
No. Not anymore.
He was still trapped in his own self-loathing. He'd never notice something was wrong.
No one was coming to save her.
The guard raised the dull axe again, aiming for her mangled neck.
Then, from across the water, came the low blast of a ship's horn.
The guard froze. All three of them turned.
On the horizon, a massive cruise ship was gliding toward the dock.
"Damn it!" the executioner hissed. "Why the hell is there a ship coming in now?"
Another guard panicked. "Mrs. Neville rushed this. She probably didn't check the dock schedule."
The ship drew closer. Figures moved on the deck.
If they finished the job here, they'd be seen.
The guard holding the axe hesitated—Isabella's orders versus exposure. He couldn't decide.
"Forget it!" one of the others urged, voice tight. "Mrs. Neville just wants her dead, right? Why make it harder on ourselves? If someone on that ship sees us, they'll call the cops. Just throw her in the water and be done with it."
The executioner's jaw clenched. After a few seconds, he spat on the ground.
"Fine. She's getting off easy." He dropped the axe. "Mrs. Neville wants a gruesome scene? We'll pull a photo off the dark web later. She'll never know."
He jerked his chin. "Move."
They hauled Caroline's half-conscious body up. One guard wiped the blood off the dock. Then they dragged her toward the edge.
Through the haze, Caroline felt herself being carried. She forced her eyes open. Below her—dark, churning water.
They threw her in.
The impact knocked the air from her lungs. Freezing saltwater rushed into her nose and mouth. Even with the tape over her lips, the suffocation was instant.
She thrashed. Her arms flailed. Her legs kicked. She tried to surface.
But the wound on her neck screamed when the seawater hit it. Her wrists throbbed. Her movements turned chaotic.
Worse—her fear of water exploded.
The more she struggled, the faster she sank.
Water flooded in. She choked. Her mind went dim.
Cold darkness closed in from every direction. The last thing she saw was Alexander's face—that sad, silent expression from a few days ago.
She never got to ask him. "Will you ever forgive me?"
Maybe this was better. He wouldn't have to deal with her anymore—his disobedient, ruined wife.
She let her eyes fall shut.
Just as her body began to sink deeper, a hand shot through the water from the side. It locked around her arm.
Water exploded. Caroline was yanked to the surface, coughing violently.
Before she could process it, she was hauled into a speedboat.
A man in a wetsuit knelt at the edge. He flipped her onto her stomach and pressed hard on her back.
Caroline spat up seawater. The choking eased slightly.
The man stopped and pulled her upright.
She lifted her soaked face. Through tangled, dripping hair, she saw a stranger. Panic flared. She edged back, nearly tumbling overboard.
"Don't be scared!" The man raised both hands. "I'm not going to hurt you! I work for the Neville Family!"
Caroline's whole body went rigid. She kept backing away.
"No—wait! Listen to me!" The man's voice cracked with desperation. Sweat broke out across his forehead.
"I'm not with them! I mean—I snuck out to save you! I heard Mrs. Neville's plan… I couldn't just stand by and…"
He was too panicked. His words tumbled out in a mess. He stared at her with pleading eyes.
"Please. I'm begging you. Don't tell anyone I pulled you out. You know. I know. No one else. If they find out, my family and I—we're finished."