Filed To Story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family
The sound resonated through the air.
“Let go of me! Boss—”
At that moment, Horace was nearly losing his mind, his eyes blood-red with anger.
Mirabella had taken his share of the punishment, so he was spared from being dragged away.Watching her get hit was unbearable for Horace. He wanted to slaughter these brutes, to shield his boss behind his own body.
“Ha! Hahaha.” Martha laughed triumphantly, looking at Serena to ask, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
The corners of Serena’s mouth twitched with uncontainable glee, but despite Mirabella being slapped, her icy gaze remained clear, her expression devoid of fear or agony.
She stood as cold and unyielding, looking at them as if they were fools.
“When the blade crosses her face, I bet she’ll beg for mercy—hahaha.” Martha signaled, and someone approached with a knife in hand.
The sight of the blade gleaming with a sinister light made Serena involuntarily utter, “Martha.”
Were they really going to kill her?
“Don’t worry, Serena. I’ve done this sort of thing plenty of times before.” Murderous intent flared in Martha’s eyes as she closed in on Mirabella.
“Martha, we don’t know if she’s got cameras on her, or bugs.” Serena cautioned.
Mirabella was notoriously cunning; this could all be one of her traps.
What if the Collins family was already on their way to rescue her?
If that were the case, the fate awaiting Serena and Martha would be far worse than death.
“I had them searched; they’re clean. Relax.” Martha advanced step by step toward Mirabella, the knife tapping against her cheek, smiling with a chilling ferocity, “Ready?””I won’t be in the mood for truth once the pain starts, so why not let me die knowing? Who are you, really? Who are these people? What really happened in the fire that year?” Mirabella lifted her gaze to ask.
Martha’s smile was chilling. “Do you really want to know?”
“Serena isn’t surprised to see that you have so many underlings; that means she’s known about you for a long time. Who are you exactly? What are you plotting within the Collins family?”
“Martha, don’t tell her. If she doesn’t die, it’ll be trouble for us.” Serena interjected in time.
“You’ve got me tied up here, my phone’s smashed, and I can’t contact the outside world. I can’t even save myself. With over a hundred of your man here, do you think I can escape?” Mirabella’s cool gaze fell on Serena, leaving her speechless.
Indeed, what was there to fear? Mirabella was tied up and helpless.
Martha wouldn’t fail.
“It doesn’t matter if I tell you. Our organization is called.”
Martha elongated her words playfully, toying with Mirabella’s anticipation. It took a while before she finally said, “Doom.”
Martha was from Doom.
“Since when?” Mirabella asked, locking her gaze onto Martha’s eyes.
“Well, it’s a long story. But right now, I’m not in the mood to chat. I’m more interested in carving up your pretty little face.”
Martha revealed a maniacal grin, as she discussed with Serena on the video call, “Serena, what do you think about etching ‘slut’ on her left cheek and ‘tramp’ on her right? Let her wear her shame for everyone to see, eh?”
Serena, all too eager, quickly piped up with a suggestion, “Or maybe just ‘Bitch’ on one side and ‘Whore’ on the other.”
“Brilliant!” Martha cackled, her voice sharp as the blade that hovered dangerously close to Mirabella’s face.
“One last question,” Mirabella said, her eyes fearless. “The fire years ago. did you plan it?”
“Me?” Martha laughed, genuinely surprised, “Do you think I’m capable of burning down an entire clinic and keeping it a secret for so many years? Mirabella, you’re giving me too much credit. I don’t have that kind of power. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time to seize the opportunity.”
In its heyday, Doom’s influence spread far and wide, with a reach that was deep and tangled.
On the surface, some of them were deli owners, street vendors, or office workers.But behind closed doors, they all pledged allegiance to Doom, doing its bidding.
Martha, as an ordinary citizen, was just what Doom needed.
Mirabella wondered, could the fire have been Doom’s doing, and Martha merely stumbled into joining them? Who then planned the fire?
At the hospital.
Steward burst into the room, “Sean, we’ve located Ms. Bella! She’s been kidnapped!”
“What did you say?” Sean yanked out the IV, disregarding whether blood was oozing from the needle prick on his hand, and asked angrily, “Who dared to touch her?”
“It seems to be Doom’s people. they’re at Tower Bay.”
Seeing Sean stride out of the room, Steward hurried after him. Noting Sean’s frail silhouette, still recovering, Steward couldn’t help but say, “Sean.”
“Shut it.” Sean’s voice was lethal as he stepped into the elevator, “Kidnap my sister? They’re asking for war!”
At Tower Bay, 18th floor.
Mirabella lifted her eyes to Martha. “You joined Doom to have them protect you so that when the Collins family started digging into the fire, you’d have the power to move some pieces to obstruct and interfere.”
“Exactly,” Martha said, looking at Mirabella. “But then you had to come along for Carol, causing such trouble that Doom became a mess, just a shadow of its former self. But even a skinny camel is larger than a horse, and behind you are those who would die for Doom. You can’t catch them all!”During Doom’s prime, Martha did reap some benefits, but nothing compared to the six-figure monthly salary she earned as a servant in the Collins household.
With Doom, she could pull some strings and get her hands dirty. Like that time, long ago, when a servant who crossed Martha met a grisly end.
“So who’s your boss? And who planned the fire? I’m about to die under your knife; at least let me die knowing.”
Martha laughed with a blend of glee and pity, her laughter slicing through the air like a sharp blade.
“You can’t touch him. Don’t overestimate yourself. Even the entire Collins family combined is no match for my boss. Focus on yourself, because you’re about to become a grotesque spectacle.”
The knife was poised to fall.
Just then, a voice interrupted.
“Martha—”
The swift-footed assassin approached with a troubled look on her face. She gestured for Martha to step aside for a private word.
Martha didn’t expect such a buzzkill, gripping her knife tightly as she walked away, her tone laced with impatience, “What’s up?”
“The Collins family has sent someone,” Swift said, worry etched into her features.
“Who?” Martha’s eyes narrowed.
“Sean.”
At the mention of his name, Martha relaxed. Oh, him?
“No worries.”
The woman appeared confused, looking at Martha curiously. Sean’s influence in Belloria was vast and powerful; they usually steered clear of him.
Why was Martha suddenly unafraid?
“Relax, I’ve done my homework.”
Martha had heard the juicy gossip that Sean and his sister Mirabella were always at each other’s throats. They’d brawl at the drop of a hat and engage in deadly drag races. Rumor had it Sean had sworn to strip Mirabella of her skin if he ever caught her.
Out of options, Mirabella was forced into hiding; after all, Sean was a titan in Belloria.”He hates her guts and probably wants to catch her and skin her himself.” Martha mused, glancing in Mirabella’s direction with a smirk of satisfaction.
That little wretch surely never expected one of her many brothers to despise her to such an extent.
Martha relished the sight of sibling rivalry, affirming her belief that blood ties meant less than the relationships forged day by day.
Perhaps Sean couldn’t stand Mirabella’s smug, self-important look.
In his heart, Serena must be the one who mattered most!
“But what if,” Swift speculated, “he’s not here for Mirabella, but to investigate the fire. Could he be after the Viper?”
After all, Sean had been relentlessly searching for Sam, who had been taken out by the Viper.
“If he’s after the Viper, tell him Mirabella killed him. And if he wants Mirabella, have him wait. You can personally deliver her to him later.”
Martha’s gaze returned to Mirabella, clutching the knife as she stepped closer.
“You’ve got quite the collection of enemies. I thought about handing you over to him, but I just can’t bear the thought of you dying so easily.” Martha saw the cell phone on the nearby table topple over and reached to set it right again, speaking into it, “Serena, watch closely. I’m about to carve a message into this wretch’s face.”
“Hold on, Martha!” Serena suddenly blurted out, a mix of excitement and vindication in her voice as she looked toward Mirabella, “I want her to beg me.”
“What?” Martha didn’t grasp her meaning.
“Mirabella, if you just admit that coming back home was a mistake, that you shouldn’t have bullied me or paraded around like you owned the place, just get down on your knees and beg me, knock your forehead on the ground ten times, and I might just get Martha to leave your pretty face alone.”
Of course, that was never going to happen. It was a bluff, a ploy to see Mirabella submit and grovel.