4

Jake

“Who are you people?” His voice cracked, desperate, as he shouted, his breath ragged. His body was bound to the chair, his eyes blindfolded, and all he could do was shout, his voice full of fear.

How could this pathetic excuse for a man be Belle’s husband? He’s nothing but a coward, unworthy of her.

I stepped closer to him, my presence suffocating as I towered over his trembling form. “Do you know why you’re here?” I asked, my voice low and cold, laced with an icy fury.

“No… please, I don’t know… Please let me go!” His voice cracked as he screamed again, fear and regret oozing from his words. “I’m begging you, please—”

This man, Samuel Pierce, was the reason for Belle’s condition. He had torn apart the one person I loved more than anything, reduced her to a lifeless shell. He was the reason she lay unconscious, her future uncertain.

I reached down and yanked a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back violently. He groaned in pain as I forced his head to tilt backward, exposing the terror in his eyes.

“What was your name again?” I asked, my fingers twisting in his hair, each movement sending waves of agony through him.

“Samm… Samuel… Pierce,” he stammered, his voice raw from the strain. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps.

“Samuel,” I whispered, savoring the sound of his name on my lips. “Do you understand now why you’re here?” I released his hair, my hands now gripping his cheeks, squeezing tightly. His face turned red, his breath coming in ragged sobs as I tightened my grip.

He shook his head, unable to speak, the terror overwhelming him. He could barely breathe.

“You hurt something precious to me,” I growled, my voice dripping with malice. “And for that, you will pay—”

Without another word, I slammed my fist into his face, feeling the sickening crunch of bone under my knuckles. Blood poured from his mouth, splattering onto the floor as he let out a strangled gasp.

I leaned in close, my voice a hiss. “You’ll suffer, Samuel. You’ll suffer the way she did. With every ounce of pain that I can give you.”

I stepped back and nodded toward James, who was waiting, standing by, ready to carry out my orders.

“Beat the hell out of him,” I ordered, my voice cold and impassive. “But don’t let him die. I want him alive, but in so much pain that he begs for death.”

“No, please... no more!” Samuel screamed, his voice breaking with each word, as James’s fists collided with his torso, each punch harder than the last. His body jolted with each blow, but still, he couldn’t escape the torment.

I watched with cold satisfaction as his body contorted under the brutal blows. His cries echoed in the warehouse, but I felt no sympathy, no mercy. He deserved far worse, but I wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible. He needed to feel the weight of his actions, to understand the depth of the pain he had caused.

The sound of bone cracking, of flesh tearing, filled the air as James worked to follow my orders. Samuel's blood mixed with his tears, the stench of fear and suffering thick in the air.

“Please… stop… stop…!” he begged, his voice barely a whisper as he crumpled, his body unable to withstand the onslaught.

But I wasn’t finished.

I moved closer, my eyes narrowing as I knelt before him. “You don’t get to beg for mercy,” I said coldly, my fingers tracing the bloodstained lines of his face. “You don’t get to plead. Not after what you did to her.”

I pulled back my fist and hit him again, this time in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air, but the pain kept him from breathing properly. His vision blurred as he struggled to stay conscious.

“James, don’t let him faint yet,” I ordered, stepping back, my eyes fixed on Samuel’s broken form. “Let him suffer.”

“Understood, Boss,” James replied, his voice devoid of emotion as he continued to deliver blow after blow, each one landing with bone-shattering force. The sound of Samuel’s suffering was music to my ears.

The hours passed, and Samuel’s body was a mangled mess, his once-pristine clothes torn to shreds, his skin a canvas of bruises, cuts, and blood. His face was barely recognizable, his eyes swollen shut from the relentless beating. He whimpered, barely able to form coherent words anymore.

Finally, I stood up, my gaze fixed on him. His breathing was shallow, his entire body trembling from the pain. He was a broken man, reduced to a shell of his former self. And yet, I could see the fear still in his eyes, the recognition that there was no escaping this.

“You’re lucky,” I muttered, my voice venomous. “You’re lucky that I’m letting Belle decide your punishment. But don’t think for a second that you’re escaping what’s coming to you. Not by a long shot.”

I turned on my heel, walking away from him as I left the warehouse. His broken cries followed me, but I felt no guilt, no remorse. He deserved every second of it.

I walked out of the warehouse, leaving Samuel to James’s care. The man was broken, but I wasn’t satisfied. No, I needed to make sure Belle had the final say in his fate. She deserved the chance to decide his punishment.

As I entered the house, I moved toward Belle’s bedroom, my heart heavy. I couldn’t shake the image of her lying there, lifeless. I opened the door quietly, watching as the doctors changed her IV drip.

“Any improvement in her condition?” I asked, sitting beside her, taking one of her hands in mine.

The doctor shook his head. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with her. Everything’s fine with her reports. Her wounds are healing well, but she still doesn’t seem to be waking up.”

“Yes, I’ve heard you say that before,” I muttered, frustrated with his repeated uselessness. “What are you doing here, then? Figure out her condition and find a cure.”

The doctor flinched under my gaze but didn’t respond immediately. “If we can’t cure her, I’ll—”

“Leave,” I growled, my patience evaporating. “Don’t waste my time.”

He nodded quickly, his hands shaking as he exited the room.

I sat by Belle’s side, feeling so helpless. All I had worked for, all I had gained, seemed meaningless when I couldn’t help her.

She was once so full of life—always smiling, always kind. Now, she lay there, so still, her breath faint.

“Belle… what can I do to wake you up?” I whispered, bringing her hand to my lips, my heart aching.

“If only I hadn’t left you alone, things might be different. But now... I paused, the weight of regret sinking in. “I’m sorry...”

Memories from the past flooded my mind—memories of her laughter, of her dancing in my arms.

“Jake, you’re such a bad dancer,” she laughed, pulling my hand into hers.

I smiled at the thought. “I remember the way you moved, like an angel, in that white dress. I wanted nothing more than to be there with you forever.”

I sang softly, “Darling, darling, stand by me…” as I held her hand.

And then, something stirred. My heart skipped a beat.

I opened my eyes, my senses alert, and there she was—her eyes slowly fluttering open.

“Jake…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough. It was enough.