Chapter 60
60:
Suspended midair like helpless puppets, Brendon and the others were completely at the mercy of the towering men who held them. The pressure around their necks became unbearable. As the world blurred and darkened, flickers of the afterlife appeared in their minds—familiar, comforting faces waving from beyond. Perhaps their deceased relatives, arms open in welcome.
Christina touched her neck, wincing slightly. The raw, red bruises left by Brendon’s grip were already darkening against her skin. “That’s enough,” she said, her voice low but firm. “I don’t want anyone dead. Not today.”
She knew that if she didn’t stop this now, these burly men would finish Brendon and the others right here and now. These men were clearly Dylan’s guards, disguised in movers’ uniforms—ruthless and highly trained.
At her command, the men released their grip. Brendon and the others dropped like sacks of grain, hitting the floor with heavy thuds and sharp groans.
Christina didn’t even glance at Brendon and the others. She turned to the men with a composed nod. “Let’s begin moving my belongings. I appreciate your help.”
“No problem,” they replied respectfully, then asked which boxes to pack first.
Following Christina’s instructions, the men began gathering her belongings and carrying them into the living room.
Meanwhile, Brendon and the others lay scattered across the floor, wheezing and coughing like broken puppets.
“Yolanda…” Brendon rasped, dragging himself toward her. “Are you okay?”
Yolanda looked shattered. Her hair was a tangled mess, her cheeks streaked with tears, and her eyes red and puffy from crying. She shook slightly as she tried to sit up.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, her voice barely steady. “What about you?”
Brendon’s chest tightened with emotion. Even in her terrified state, she still worried about him. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
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“I’m alright. I’ve got you.”
“I really thought… we weren’t going to make it,” she sobbed into his chest, trembling uncontrollably.
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured, holding her tightly. But his heart boiled with rage—Christina, that witch, and those bastards in uniform—they would pay for this.
Brendon turned his glare on Christina, his hands curling into fists. He wanted nothing more than to lash out—but now wasn’t the time. These men could kill them in seconds if provoked again.
No, he’d wait. Then, he’d call the police. Press charges, sue every last one of them if he had to. They’d regret ever laying a hand on him.
Yolanda clutched his arm, her voice barely a whisper. “Brendon, they’re monsters…” She sniffled and added, “They don’t look like movers… Do you think Christina brought them here just to hurt us?”
Brendon’s expression stiffened. He turned to study the men more closely. Now that Yolanda mentioned it, something felt off. They weren’t just tall—they were built like tanks. Each one had the same intimidating frame, the same steely, expressionless stare. They looked more like bodyguards or hired muscle. Could Christina really have staged this? Hired these men to rough them up just to make a point? And if that was true, then what about Christina’s earlier bravado? The villa, the “darling”—was it all a show? There was no way Christina could afford a place like this on her own. No way she’d landed a rich partner who let her live here.
His jaw clenched. He’d find out soon enough—he just had to see where they moved her things.
While Brendon was lost in thought, Katie finally caught her breath—and with it came a volcanic burst of rage. She launched herself at Christina, grabbing her collar with a snarl. She yanked, trying to drag Christina forward, but Christina didn’t move an inch.
Katie ended up just standing there, breathing hard, face flushed with rage and humiliation. “You psycho bitch!” she screamed. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill us? I swear, I’ll call the cops! You and those thugs—you’ll all rot in jail!”
Brendon’s heart sank. That was his plan—one he’d meant to carry out quietly once they were out of danger. But now, thanks to his hotheaded sister, that card had been thrown on the table. He clenched his jaw, barely containing the panic rising in his chest. If Christina believed they were a threat—if she even suspected he might go to the police—there was no telling what she’d do next. For all he knew, they might not make it out of here at all.
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