Arthur forced himself to ignore the suffocating presence of the gun pointed at him. "Mr. Solivair, you've lived your entire life for one thing—the honor of the Tremo family." Solivair had been just about to pull the trigger, but at those words, his finger hesitated. A flicker of curiosity crossed his eyes. This boy—he was even younger than Finley—yet in the face of death, surrounded by armed guards, he remained unnervingly calm. Just moments ago, two gunshots had sent Finley into unconsciousness. Finley was a son Solivair was quite satisfied with. His mental resilience had always been stronger than his peers, and among the family’s competitors, his strategic mind was among the best. But in the end, he was still young and had never truly faced bloodshed. Killing Dean and Kent in front of him had been a test—to help him build his courage. He hadn’t expected Finley to faint. And yet, Arthur—though pale—hadn't screamed, hadn't broken down. Solivair appreciated that. That kind of composure was rare. Arthur saw it too. The slight loosening of Solivair’s finger on the trigger. It was barely noticeable, but Arthur, watching him like a hawk, caught it. The gun, however, was still aimed at him. Solivair hadn’t changed his mind. Arthur had chosen Hugo’s side. His people had harmed Arthur’s friends. That grudge was set in stone. And a little admiration wasn’t enough for Solivair to spare him. Arthur didn’t have time to talk in circles. Right now, nothing mattered more than getting Taylor to a hospital. His mind raced for something—anything—that might sway Solivair. And then it hit him.Arthur’s eyes lit up. "I remember hearing once… the Tremo family had a daughter. She mysteriously disappeared a few years ago." Before he could even finish his sentence, Solivair’s hand trembled. His entire expression shifted in an instant. The gun clattered to the floor as Solivair tossed it aside and strode toward Arthur. His steps were unsteady. Then, to Arthur’s shock, Solivair dropped to one knee in front of him, gripping his shoulders with a vice-like hold. His face was terrifyingly dark, his eyes locked onto Arthur’s as if trying to burn a hole through him. Solivair’s voice shook. “Arthur… how do you know that? How do you know about Lynn?” His breathing turned erratic. His fingers dug into Arthur’s shoulders, tightening with each second. "You—do you have a lead on Lynn!" His expression grew wilder, his eyes filled with a desperate madness. “Tell me! Where is she?! Where’s Lynn?! Tell me right now!!” He shook Arthur violently, as if he could shake the answer out of him. Arthur’s vision blurred from the force, but deep inside, he felt a surge of relief. He had gambled. And he had won. Lynn. She was his weakness. Most people didn’t know this ruthless man—who barely cared for his own son—had a single soft spot. His only daughter. Lynn.The only child left behind by the only woman Solivair had ever loved. She had died of illness shortly after giving birth to Lynn, and from that moment on, Solivair had poured all his love into the child. He had shielded her from the world, determined to keep her away from the bloodshed and corruption of the family. So much so that even the Tremo family itself barely knew she existed. To the outside world, Lynn wasn’t real. Solivair had hidden her away in an enormous, secluded estate, a place no one could reach. He had built her a castle, a dreamlike paradise, complete with the best tutors, endless luxuries, and thousands of servants sworn to absolute secrecy. Inside that grand estate, Lynn was treated like a princess—admired, adored, protected. But that very life had left her yearning for something more. She had been raised in a golden cage, never knowing anything beyond its walls. Except for the servants who had sold their lives to Solivair, and the rare visits from her father, Lynn had never met another soul. She had everything. And yet, she was the loneliest person in the world.