Arthur couldn’t sit still any longer. He stood up abruptly and shouted, “Mr. Solivair, you’d better think this through—if you lay even a finger on them, I swear you’ll never see your daughter Lynn again as long as you live!” Solivair froze mid-step. He stared at Arthur for a long moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. “Hahaha!” He kept laughing, but none of it reached his eyes. The sound was hollow—sharp. Finally, the laughter stopped. His face dropped. “Arthur, you know what I hate the most? Being threatened.” As he said it, he suddenly pulled a small knife from his waistband. The blade gleamed coldly under the light, and all three of them—Arthur, Ashley, and Taylor—felt a jolt of fear in their chests. Taylor snapped, voice cracking with panic, “Mr. Solivair! What are you doing? Murder is a crime!” His words trembled with fear, exactly the reaction Solivair had been craving. A smirk crept onto Solivair’s face. Now that’s more like it. This was the kind of fear he expected from hostages. Arthur had stayed too calm for too long—it had even made Solivair start questioning himself. Ignoring Taylor’s panic, he walked over to Ashley with the knife in hand. He looked down at her delicate, beautiful face and smirked. “Arthur, you lucky scumbag, you’ve got yourself a gorgeous fiancee.” Then he slowly raised the knife, its tip drifting dangerously close to her face. “What a shame, though... such a pretty little face. I wonder what it’d look like with a few scars on it?” Solivair’s grin turned cruel. The knife, glinting with a cold light, hovered just a hair’s breadth from Ashley’s skin. Her face went ghost-white from fear. She clenched the hem of her clothes with trembling hands, shrinking back as far as she could against the pillar behind her. The blade stopped less than an inch from her cheek. Even the slightest movement could split her skin open. That knife was wickedly sharp; just looking at it made it obvious. Ashley clenched her jaw tight, refusing to cry out. She knew exactly what was happening—Solivair had brought them here to use her against Arthur. She couldn’t let herself become a burden. As Solivair let the knife drift along her cheek, he watched Arthur’s face from the corner of his eye, studying every twitch, every breath. No one knew just how tense Arthur really was. His fists were clenched tight, nails digging into his palms, mind racing to come up with a way out. Taylor, though, was nowhere near as composed. The moment he saw that knife brushing Ashley’s face, all the color drained from his skin. He trembled head to toe, fear rolling off him in waves. Only now did it finally hit him—how terrifying a man Solivair truly was. This was supposed to be a civilized, peaceful world… and yet everything he’d experienced since meeting this man had been like stepping into a nightmare. Even he could finally see it, Solivair had dragged him and Ashley here for one reason—to threaten Arthur. His eyes darted between Solivair’s knife and Arthur’s face, heart pounding out of his chest. Arthur looked like ice—cold to the core. There wasn’t a trace of warmth left in his expression. Even the guards standing next to him could feel the chill radiating off him. Taylor didn’t dare say a word. He knew Arthur was holding himself back with everything he had. Ashley was Arthur’s fiancee. Taylor knew how much she meant to him. Right now, no one was more on edge than Arthur. Solivair traced the blade over Ashley’s cheek for what felt like an eternity—but still, Arthur didn’t flinch.No panic. No break in his mask. A flicker of disappointment flashed across Solivair’s face, and with a scoff, he finally lowered the blade. The moment he did, both Arthur and Ashley exhaled at the same time, their relief almost audible. Ashley glanced at Arthur, emotions churning behind her eyes. She knew he’d been putting on an act the whole time. He was the kind of man who’d give his life for her without hesitation. That scene just now—it had to have terrified him. She also knew, if Arthur had cracked, if he’d shown even a hint of fear or weakness, Solivair would’ve turned them all into playthings. And what awaited them then… would’ve been a fate worse than death. Ashley didn’t know what had given Arthur the strength to stay so still, so composed—but she trusted him. She believed he had a reason. That he’d already thought everything through. That somewhere deep down, he knew Solivair wouldn’t dare truly harm them.