“Solivair, she’s a person! Not a possession!” Arthur roared. “You locked her away in a place with no contact with the outside world—how is that any different from prison?!” Solivair stared at Arthur in a daze. He muttered, “But if I didn’t… she would’ve run away. If she ran, I’d never find her again… just like Kelly.” “What?” Arthur shot to his feet. “Explain what you mean!” What did he mean she would run? And what did Kelly have to do with this? Solivair’s words were brief, but Arthur instantly picked up on something deeper. His instincts flared. Could it be that his aunt had suffered the same treatment? The thought sent white-hot fury rushing through Arthur’s veins. He’d thought Solivair was a despicable man, yes—but at least he’d loved his daughter. But now, it was clear—this man was a controlling monster to the extreme. They’d never met, he and Kelly. But Lynn was his sister. It was his duty to protect her. Solivair lifted his gaze, staring off toward the horizon. “Kelly… it was the same back then.” “What do you mean, ‘the same’?” Arthur pressed, voice like a whip. Solivair knew there was no escaping this. He’d kept the truth buried for years—decades—but now it demanded release. “I met Kelly, and I fell for her at first sight. But I was already married. I already had several children.” Arthur’s chest tightened. He could already see where this was going. “I wanted to be with Kelly so badly,” Solivair went on. “I lied to her. Told her I wasn’t married.” “She believed me.” “We held a wedding overseas. But when she got pregnant, she wanted to come home to see her father.” “I didn’t want to, but she kept insisting. So we returned to Lioran.”“After an argument with her father, she accidentally found out the truth—that I was heir to the Tremo family, that I had a wife and multiple children.” “She tried to leave me. Wanted a divorce. I panicked. I locked her in a villa. Then I built her a private castle.” Solivair’s voice faltered, grief creeping into his expression. Arthur, meanwhile, was so stunned he nearly lunged at him on the spot. “Kelly was miserable every day,” Solivair continued. “And in the end… she died giving birth to Lynn.” “That castle became Lynn’s fortress.” At those words, Arthur could no longer hold back. He swung a fist straight into Solivair’s face. “Fortress?!” Arthur shouted. “Was it a fortress—or a goddamn prison?!” “You didn’t love them! You locked them away for your own sick obsession with control!” Solivair fell, blood already pooling at the corner of his mouth. He tried to get up to explain himself, but Arthur landed another punch from the other side. This time, Arthur didn’t hold back. Solivair crumpled, groaning, unable to rise. Arthur thought of Lynn’s terrified eyes when she mentioned leaving the island. Of his grandfather’s grief when he spoke of Kelly. Of the guns Solivair had supplied—guns that had left Ashley unable to walk and turned Taylor into a living corpse. He climbed on top of Solivair and rained down punch after punch, fists like hammers, slamming into his face with no mercy. I couldn’t protect the people I care about. I was useless. And this bastard… he destroyed everything. If it hadn’t been for those guns, Ashley wouldn’t be crippled. She wouldn’t be in such despair. Taylor wouldn’t be comatose, wasting away in a hospital bed. Arthur’s fury boiled over, each hit more violent than the last. Every pent-up emotion from the past few days exploded in a frenzy of fists. Solivair couldn’t move. Arthur had him pinned. His face quickly swelled and twisted, blood covering everything. During one of Arthur’s brief pauses for breath, Solivair managed to gasp out—“I love them! I didn’t want to control them! I just wanted to protect them!” He shouted it like an oath—not to Arthur, but to himself. Like if he said it loud enough, it would make it true. Arthur answered with another brutal punch that silenced him instantly. Solivair’s teeth flew across the ground, just like Finley’s had before. Arthur beat him until his arms were weak, until Solivair had passed out and come to multiple times. Finally, Arthur collapsed beside him, spent. Solivair lay there, barely breathing, clinging to consciousness by a thread. His vision was blurry, his mind unsteady. Blood covered his hair, his face, everything. And still, through cracked lips and broken teeth, he whispered over and over, barely audible: “I love them… I just wanted to protect them…”