Chapter 226 Remember, You Are Alexander
Linus's whip froze mid-swing, and his expression twisted into something grotesquely servile. He dropped the whip and practically scrambled on all fours toward the car in the driveway, collapsing to his knees on the stone path.
"Mr. Hamilton! You're here! These ungrateful bitches disturbed you—I'll deal with them immediately!"
Mark stepped out, opened the door, and carefully helped Alexander into the wheelchair. Then he moved behind it and pushed him along the stone pathway toward the villa's entrance.
Linus immediately crawled alongside the wheelchair like a trained dog, staying half a length behind, never daring to pass the front wheels.
The wheelchair rolled across polished marble, through the entrance hall, and into the living room—luxuriously decorated but reeking of decay.
In the center sat an ornate bed. The carved posts and headboard were exquisite, but the sheets were ruined by stains, their expensive origins long obscured.
Isabella lay sprawled across it, limbs broken and twisted at unnatural angles like a discarded mannequin. The sharp stench radiating from her body was nauseating, but her mouth kept spewing venom.
"You'll all pay for this! You Hamilton bastards! Alexander, you demon! You'll burn in hell! The Neville family won't let you—"
Alexander laughed softly.
Isabella's tirade cut off mid-sentence.
She turned her head stiffly toward the sound, her gaze landing on the man in the wheelchair.
When she recognized Alexander's pale but still handsome face, the hysteria drained from her expression, replaced by naked terror. Her whole body began to shake, the sheets trembling beneath her, followed by a fresh stench spreading from below.
She'd lost control of her bladder again.
The moment Linus saw it, he snatched up the whip and leaped to the bedside, lashing it across her body.
"Shut up, you crazy bitch! Who gave you permission to scream in front of Mr. Hamilton! I'll tear your mouth apart! I'll make sure you never speak again!"
He swung the whip with theatrical enthusiasm, as if each strike proved his loyalty.
The leather cut into Isabella's skin again and again, leaving bloody welts and bruises. She screamed—a raw, inhuman sound—rolling helplessly on the bed, unable to escape.
Alexander watched with mild interest before raising his hand in a barely perceptible gesture.
Mark spoke immediately. "Linus. Mr. Hamilton wants you to stop."
Linus froze. He dropped the whip and scrambled back to the wheelchair on all fours, prostrating himself on the marble floor.
"Yes! Forgive me! I overstepped! What are your orders?"
Alexander looked down at the man groveling at his feet, his tone slow and measured. "Don't rush to beat them to death. Keep them alive. Let them suffer a while longer. Have your fun."
Linus visibly relaxed, like a prisoner granted a stay of execution. He knocked his forehead against the floor repeatedly.
"Yes, Mr. Hamilton! I'll take care of them! I'll keep them alive long enough to experience everything!"
Alexander made a soft sound—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh of impatience.
Linus's entire body went rigid. He realized his mistake instantly and scrambled for better words, like grabbing a lifeline.
"Yes, sir! Honorable sole heir of the Hamilton family! Your loyal servant Linus will not disappoint you!"
Alexander watched him debase himself, practically trying to melt into the floor, and suddenly laughed—a sound tinged with genuine amusement.
He reached down and patted Linus's sweat-soaked face almost affectionately.
"My dear uncle. You're remarkably flexible. You'll do anything to save yourself."
Linus didn't dare move, but his facial muscles struggled into an ugly, twisted smile, his eyes full of fear and flattery.
"But if you'd shown even a little mercy back then—to me, or to Caroline—we wouldn't be here now, would we?"
The smile froze on Linus's face. His shoulders trembled. His breathing turned ragged.
"Still..." Alexander withdrew his hand and pulled a small pill bottle from his jacket, spinning it casually between his fingers.
"This isn't so bad."
He shook the bottle, the pills rattling inside. "This is the drug Caroline took long-term, isn't it? The one that made her believe she was Edith?"
Linus's pupils contracted. His breathing stopped. He stared at the bottle in horror.
Mark gave a bodyguard a look.
The bodyguard stepped forward, grabbed Linus's jaw, and pried his mouth open. Linus stared wide-eyed, not fully understanding what was about to happen but knowing instinctively he couldn't resist.
Alexander unscrewed the bottle and, without bothering to check the dosage, poured most of the white pills directly into Linus's forced-open mouth.
Then he picked up a half-full glass of water from a nearby table and tipped it down Linus's throat.
Water and pills flooded in together. Linus choked, his chest heaving violently. He tried to spit them out, but the bodyguard kept his jaw clamped shut, forcing him to swallow.
Water and pills went down his throat, some into his windpipe. He made broken, choking sounds, his body curling up on the ground as if fighting for air.
Before long, his eyes began to glaze over. His focus drifted. The last traces of clarity in his pupils were replaced by confusion and blankness.
Alexander looked down at him, his gaze calm and focused. Then he raised his hand and pointed at Edith, barely conscious on the floor. "See her?"
Linus's clouded gaze followed the gesture, finally settling on Edith's blurred outline.
"Remember. From now on, you are Alexander." Alexander's voice was clear and deliberate. "That's Edith. The person you hate most in this life. She took everything from you. She killed your beloved Caroline."
He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping. "Look at her. She's lying there. Still alive. Still watching you. Laughing at you. Laughing because you couldn't even protect the person you loved."
Linus's breathing quickened. His chest heaved. His gaze locked onto Edith, his lips trembling as he mumbled, "Edith... that bitch... she killed... Caroline... my love..."
"That's right." Alexander smiled faintly, as if confirming a lesson well learned.
He raised his hand again, pointing at the figure on the bed. "And that's your mother-in-law, Isabella. She always favored Edith. She ignored Caroline. Abused her. You wouldn't have any good feelings toward her either, would you?"
A low growl escaped Linus's throat. He struggled to push himself up from the ground, his movements clumsy but stubborn.
Alexander watched him, his eyes bright with anticipation. "So, Alexander—how will you punish them? They destroyed the person you loved most. They made her suffer. Made her die in agony. What will you do to truly avenge Caroline?"
Linus's expression collapsed completely. His consciousness had been scrambled by the drugs and suggestions.
He muttered to himself, his voice growing more frantic. "I am Alexander... I am Alexander... I must take revenge... I must avenge Caroline... they killed Caroline..."
"That's right. You are Alexander."
Alexander nodded with satisfaction, as if confirming a successful experiment.
"You hate them. You hate them to death. So now—go take your revenge. Let them experience what hell feels like."
Edith seemed to finally understand.
She lifted her head with the last of her strength and screamed at Alexander, her voice tearing her throat. "Alexander! You're not human! You're a demon! You'll burn in hell! You'll never find peace!"
Alexander, irritated by the noise, frowned slightly and rubbed his ear, as if her wailing were just background static.
"Shut up! You damn murderer! How dare you disrespect me! You killed Caroline! You don't deserve to live!"
Linus, fully lost in his delusion, let out a low, tearing roar. He broke free from the bodyguard and lunged at Edith like a beast finally unleashed, his hands swinging wildly, slapping her face from both sides. As he struck, he cursed in a broken voice, all his hatred landing on her.