The color drained from Natalie’s face. Jensen… wanted to break her right hand? All because of Sharon? Because she refused to hand over the title of Sunny? She scrambled for her phone to call the police, but Clark had already anticipated it. He snatched it from her hands and hurled it out the window. Then, from the glove compartment, he pulled out a hammer and advanced toward her. “Miss Natalie, please don’t blame me.” “No! Stay away! What you’re doing is illegal!” She pounded at the car windows in panic, but the vehicle was built for security—her bare hands were useless against the reinforced glass. She yanked at the door handle. Locked. Her only chance was the central control panel—but that was on the driver’s side. She stared at Clark, heart sinking into bottomless despair. Then she did something she never thought she’d do. She begged. “I’m begging you. Please… don’t hurt my hand. I’ll do anything. Whatever you want—just don’t take this from me.” “I’m sorry, Miss Natalie,” Clark murmured, expression grim. “You shouldn’t have crossed Miss Sharon.” He raised the hammer and swung down at her hand. “No!”Natalie jerked away just in time. Clark missed, eyes flashing red with frustration. “If you keep resisting,” he growled, “I can’t promise you won’t end up worse.” “Help! Somebody help me!” Natalie screamed at the top of her lungs, even though she knew they were in the middle of nowhere. Clark panicked. If anyone heard her… He raised his hand and slammed it into her neck, cutting her off mid-scream. Her world went black. Even unconscious, her hand was still clinging to the door handle, fighting for a way out. Clark exhaled shakily. His hands trembled. He’d never done something like this before. And though they were isolated, he couldn’t afford to take risks. He had to act fast. After glancing around to ensure they were alone, he gritted his teeth, grabbed Natalie’s right hand, and raised the hammer. The sound was sickening. “Ahhh!” The searing pain ripped Natalie out of unconsciousness. Clark didn’t stop. He brought the hammer down again. And again. Blood splattered, bones cracked, her delicate hand twisted and split, shattered beyond recognition.Natalie’s body convulsed, soaked in sweat, her screams fading into strangled gasps—until the pain overtook her and she passed out again. Only when the damage was complete did Clark lower the hammer, panting. He couldn’t risk her getting help too soon. If the injury was treated quickly, she might regain some function. So he dragged her limp body out of the car and dumped her in the dirt on the side of the road. Then he sped away, knuckles white on the wheel, eyes glassy with guilt. Natalie had always treated him kindly. She’d even helped him financially over the years. But his sister… she was dying in the ICU. Without money, she had no chance. And if he crossed Sharon now, Jensen would fire him without hesitation. He had no choice. “I’m sorry… Miss Natalie…” Tears blurred his vision as he drove back toward the city. Behind him, Natalie lay abandoned like a broken doll, her blood soaking into the earth. The crimson stain glistened under the harsh afternoon sun. … After Baron left, Phantom immediately started tracking Natalie’s phone location. Baron had installed a tracker on her phone the night they slept together, just in case. When Phantom saw the location ping at the post office, she wasn’t alarmed. She headed out to follow it—but just then, her car tire blew out. Thinking it was nothing urgent, Phantom replaced the tire calmly. Natalie couldn’t be in danger at a post office.But when she finished the repair, she checked the tracker again—and saw that Natalie’s phone was now showing a location in the outskirts. Outskirts? What would Natalie be doing there? A ripple of unease passed through Phantom. She jumped into the car and sped toward the new coordinates. But she was too late. The sight that greeted her knocked the breath from her lungs. Natalie’s hand—shattered, twisted, the bone visible through torn flesh—was coated in dried blood. Her body was limp, barely breathing, her skin flushed with fever. “Miss Summers!” Phantom rushed forward, gathering Natalie into her arms. No response. She was completely unconscious—and likely burning with infection. Without wasting another second, Phantom placed her in the car and tore down the road toward the nearest hospital. All the way there, she dialed Baron over and over, but his line wouldn’t connect. With no other option, she finally made a call she didn’t want to. “Mr. Luke,” she said, voice low and strained. “I’m just a passerby. I found Miss Natalie collapsed on the roadside in the outskirts. It looks like someone smashed her hand. She’s unconscious. I’m taking her to the hospital now. Can you come?”