The door exploded inward with a deafening crash.
Cynthia screamed like she'd seen a ghost, clutching the sheets to her chest. "Ahhh!"
Lucas shot to his feet, yanking on his shirt, his face pale with disbelief. "What the hell? I thought you said he was dead!"
Michael stepped into the room, dripping seawater, his chest heaving with fury and his eyes blazed like fire.
He looked at Cynthia as though he were staring at a stranger.
"I thought you were preparing a surprise," She said still processing seeing someone that was supposed to be at the bottom of the sea.
"And here I am… the one surprised." His gaze locked on her. "So, Isabelle, after three years… it was all a lie?" Michael could barely hide the pain in his voice.
Her lips parted, stammering. "Michael... it's not what it looks like—"
"Really?" His voice cracked with rage. "I heard everything. Every word out of your mouth. You used me. You mocked me. You fed him everything I bled for. I gave you my kidney for crying out loud!"
Cynthia's eyes widened and suddenly her face hardened.
There was no need for lies anymore.
Her tone shifted into a cold and venomous one. A tone he has never heard in three years.
"Yes. And so what?" she spat, glaring at him with raw contempt. "I took everything from you. Your company. Your money. Your body. You're nothing but a hollow man, Michael. A broken fool. What are you going to do about it?"
Michael's chest heaved, his fists clenched and his jaw tightened.
Lucas smirked, stepping forward, buttoning his shirt lazily as though Michael's rage was beneath him. "Tch. I don't know what kind of amateurs you hired, Isabelle. Make sure you collect the money back." He sneered at Michael. "Listen, fool. You ruined my night with your wife."
He spread his arms mockingly, his voice dripping with arrogance.
"Lucky for you, I'm in a generous mood. So the hell out."
Then his head tilted. "Or you know what?..."
"Stay and watch."
His grin widened, cruel. "Watch how a real man pleasures a woman. I'm sure Cynthia hasn't reached orgasm in years with you."
Michael's breath shook as fury exploded through him. His vision blurred red, his blood thundered in his veins.
His voice thundered like a storm.
"How dare you?! Adulterous bastards!" His roar shook the walls. "Fuck both of you! You both deserve to rot in the deepest part of hell— and I will send you there myself!"
Michael didn't wait. He lunged with all the fury that boiled inside him. His fist arced like a hammer and crashed into Lucas's jaw.
CRACK!
The blow split Lucas's lip wide open, blood spraying across his shirt. He stumbled back with a snarl of shock.
"You bastard…?" Lucas spat blood onto the floor, his eyes narrowing with murderous rage. "You hit me?!"
Michael's chest rose and fell, his fists trembling.
Lucas's expression darkened, his voice dropping into a growl. "I'll kill you with my bare hands."
For just a second, Michael felt the bitter satisfaction of seeing fear flicker in Lucas's eyes.
Lucas lunged forward, his fist swinging like a wrecking ball.
THUD!
The punch connected with Michael's face so hard that it sent a lightning bolt of agony ripping through his chest.
He staggered back in pain as a violent dizziness struck him.
He had forgotten that his body was still fragile.
Years of hard labor and looking after Cynthia when she was ill took most of his strength, coupled with the kidney transplant, his body was weak. He had managed to escape the goons that tried to drown him. At this point, he would not survive another fight.
His knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor, gasping.
His arms tried to push him up, but they shook violently and he collapsed back onto the floor.
"Pathetic," Lucas spat.
Then WHAM! Lucas's boot slammed into his stomach.
Michael's body convulsed with the impact. A scream tore from his throat. "Aaaahhh!!"
Pain exploded across his scar, a searing reminder of everything he had sacrificed. He rolled onto his side, clutching his abdomen, his breath ragged and broken.
Lucas let out a cruel laugh as he stood over him.
Then Cynthia's voice sliced through the air, sharper than a dagger.
"Even your crippled sister is stronger than you."
The words stabbed deeper than any fist, cutting through his chest like shattered glass.
Michael's body jerked as he caught his breath.
For a moment, the pain of his scar, the blows, the humiliation, none of it compared to the venom of that single line.
Something inside him snapped.
His blood roared in his ears, a storm surging through his veins. His body was with rage that burned hotter than fire.
"You… stupid… bitch!" Michael growled, his voice ragged, his glare blazing with an intensity that made even Lucas falter for half a heartbeat.
Summoning every last shred of strength, he tried to rise, his body surging forward, his fist ready to strike her down for the betrayal that shattered him.
But Cynthia was quicker.
Her eyes widened, then hardened with a cold, decisive glint. She snatched the side table by the bed and with a furious scream, she swung it down.
CRACK!
The edge of the table smashed against the side of Michael's skull.
A blinding flash of white erupted in his vision. Pain detonated in his head like an explosion.
His entire body went rigid.
He collapsed to the floor with a sickening thud, his blood mixing with seawater on the polished wood. His vision narrowed as darkness enveloped him.
The last thing he saw was Cynthia standing above him glaring at him with hatred.