Chapter 4: The End of Forgiveness

"I didn't know it belonged to your mom! I swear I had no idea!" Silas grabbed my arm.

"Hit me! Do it! Punish me! I deserve it!"

He started to drop to his knees, aiming to slam his forehead against the floor. Before he could make contact, a hand shot out and caught him. Victoria pulled the trembling Silas upright and turned a cold glare on me.

"The dead are gone. Things are just things. Don't torture the living over objects. Silas knows he messed up."

Victoria's tone was flat and dismissive, treating the situation like a minor inconvenience while framing me as the one causing unnecessary drama. She shielded Silas protectively.

"Leave him alone. He feels awful enough."

I couldn't speak. Words completely failed me. Once again, Silas played the victim, and instantly, I was cast as the villain. From the stolen watch, to the missing painting, to the shattered wedding photo—and now him invading my home, wearing my clothes, and destroying the last thing I had left of my mother. Through all of this, Victoria was still telling me to forgive and be the bigger person.

The ringing in my ears grew louder. My throat tightened. My fingers trembled, betraying my crumbling composure. I looked at Silas, still fake-crying in Victoria's arms, and I snapped.

I lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of Silas's hair, and slammed the side of his head into the wall. Before he could recover, I delivered a hard kick behind his knee. He crumpled, hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

"That," I snarled, pressing my foot firmly against his leg, "isn't how you apologize."

I yanked his head down and smashed his forehead into the hardwood. A sharp crack echoed through the room. Silas screamed, and blood began to trickle down his brow.

"That’s how you say you’re sorry!" I roared, my vision blurring with rage.

I gripped his hair again, ready to slam him down a second time, but Victoria seized my wrist. Her grip was like a vise, forcing me back. Her eyes were dark with fury.

"Let. Go," she commanded.

"Not a chance!" I spat back.

Victoria grabbed my other arm, pinning it, and started prying my fingers out of Silas's hair by bending them backward. Pain shot through my hand. I winced, but she ignored it, relentlessly forcing my grip open.

"Don't push it, Julian!" she warned.

"Push it?" I laughed, a harsh and bitter sound, glaring right at Victoria. "The difference between people and animals is that people think. They have a conscience! They don't just blindly protect someone out of sheer obsession!"

"Since you've chosen to protect Silas!" I yelled, ignoring the agony as she wrenched my fingers back. "Fine!"

With a sickening tear, my fingernail ripped clean off. Blood welled instantly. Using the blinding pain and Victoria's momentary shock to my advantage, I raked my broken nail down Silas's face—cutting deep from his cheekbone to his jaw.

The sound of tearing skin mixed with Silas's shrill, agonized scream. His face—the one he loved posting all over social media—was now ruined.

"It's called karma!" I shouted over Silas's hysterical shrieks.

"And Victoria," I said, meeting her horrified stare, "this is what you get for underestimating me."

My voice dropped, turning cold and lethal. "I was never harmless. You should have known that by now."

"Victoria!" I declared. "You've officially pissed me off!"

"Let me be perfectly clear—I won’t stop until I destroy you both."