She Turned Her Grief Into Wings novel Chapter 81

When he woke up, the bed was surrounded by people—his so-called "relatives."

The way they looked at him held scrutiny, surprise, and jealousy, but absolutely no concern.

Even his father was the same; those dark eyes still held an unfathomable depth.

He was seeing them again. He had returned to this place.

Had the ten years of peace he'd stolen finally come to an end?

He didn't understand. Everyone here loathed him and wished him dead, so why drag him back?

Why pull him away from the only good thing he had?

"I thought you died a long time ago. I didn't expect you to still be alive."

Rhys Jewell spoke, slowly repeating the exact words the older man had once said to him.

That sentence represented Hector Sinclair's thoughts in the past, and now, naturally, it represented Rhys's.

Tough as nails, truly worthy of being biological father and son.

Hector stared at the ceiling and couldn't help but laugh aloud. "Are you a bit disappointed?"

Rhys remained noncommittal.

They both knew perfectly well that no one wanted the other dead more than they did.

Of course, neither was afraid of death. They were even waiting for the other to make a move.

Rhys slowly rolled the IV tube between his fingertips, watching the blood pulse in and out at the needle.

"There are no outsiders here. Why don't you do it?"

Rhys chuckled, pulled over a nearby chair, and sat down, crossing his legs.

At least he wouldn't be chained up and thrown into a dog cage, nor would he be attacked by venomous snakes and rabid dogs.

But he was clearly too naive. In a massive estate like this, belonging to someone so dangerous, how could a mere child possibly succeed?

Before he could even reach the bedside, a bullet grazed his skin and embedded itself straight into the hardwood floor.

Before he could react, the bodyguards outside slammed him hard against the ground. The pale man in the bed sat up, looking at him with an expression that seemed like disappointment, yet something else entirely, before giving the bodyguards a dismissive wave.

He was thrown back into the cage, lying there in humiliation, targeted by the "mad dogs" the man kept.

His eyes, fierce and unyielding, stared fixedly at them. From beginning to end, detail by detail, he memorized every single face in front of him, vowing never to forget.

"I've arranged a marriage for you."

Hector's old, slightly raspy voice echoed through the massive room.