Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously
Chapter 298: The torture

Chapter 298: The torture

A smile broke across Anne’s tear-streaked face, her chest rising with a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

"Really?" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Hmm," Augustine replied in that low, reassuring hum of his. "He is stable now. Nothing to worry about."

"Thank God," Anne whispered. "Can we come and see him?"

"He is in ICU, still under observation," Augustine explained gently. "The doctors aren’t letting anyone in just yet. There is no point in coming tonight. Get some rest. I’ll bring you to him tomorrow."

Anne nodded understandingly. "Okay. I’ll wait." After a moment of silence, she asked, "When are you coming back?"

But Augustine didn’t answer. Instead, he changed the subject. "Sleep now. It’s getting late."

"Wait—"

The line went dead.

Anne stared at her phone, a small frown tugging at her lips. ’Why did he hang up so quickly?’ she wondered. Something about the way he avoided her question didn’t sit right.

"Anne?" Margaret’s voice broke through her thoughts. "What did he say? How is Oliver? Is he okay?"

Anne quickly composed herself and turned to her mother with a soft smile. "Dad is stable now. He is out of danger. We’ll be able to see him tomorrow."

Margaret let out a long breath, visibly lighter. "That’s a relief. Go rest, sweetheart. You must be exhausted."

Anne nodded and quietly slipped out of the room, her thoughts lingering on Augustine’s silence.

At the hospital...

Augustine ended the call and turned to Nathan, his face hardening.

"Ready?" he asked seriously.

Nathan nodded, jaw tight, eyes sharp with barely contained rage. "Ready."

Augustine turned and walked out without another word, Nathan falling in step beside him.

It took them nearly an hour to reach the site. It was an abandoned construction project on the outskirts of the city. The unfinished skeleton of a building stretched out all over that vast land. The cold wind whipped around them, making Nathan shudder slightly.

The only light in the desolate area came from a single yellow bulb glowing ahead, doing its best to push back the darkness that surrounded it. They moved toward it slowly toward the light.

The silence was eerie. Only the distant bark of stray dogs and the endless chirp of crickets broke the silence. Nathan glanced around and looked behind. The road, the car—it had all disappeared in the distance. Each step deeper into this place made his chest feel heavier, his confidence slipping.

But Augustine walked on, composed as ever, even though rage was boiling inside him.

As they neared the building, a few men in black were stationed outside. They gave Augustine respectful nods as he approached.

Augustine returned the gesture.

A guard stepped forward and spoke quietly to Augustine. "We questioned her. She admitted she snuck into the mansion the same day she escaped the hospital."

Augustine nodded slowly. It was exactly what they had suspected.

"She said she originally planned to attack Mr. Oliver," the guard continued, "but when she learned about the welcome party, she decided to target Madam Anne instead. She had been waiting for the right opportunity. She wanted to complete her task and leave before the guests arrived. But with staff constantly moving around for the event preparations, she couldn’t carry out her plan. Above all, Madam Anne was never left alone. Someone was constantly with her. So Megan had to remain hidden in the basement."

Augustine’s expression grew solemn as he listened to him intently.

"But when she finally came out of the basement, one of the catering staff spotted her. She had no choice but to kill her and used the disguise to blend in. Megan knew she wouldn’t get out of it alive, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to finish what she started."

"Got it," Augustine said coldly. "Now let’s find out what more she and her team have been plotting."

With that, he stepped deeper into the building.

Nathan followed him in.

The interior was cold and rough. The walls were unpainted concrete, and the door and window frames were missing.

Overhead, a single bare bulb swung slightly from a wire, casting a flickering glow over the floor. And there, beneath that yellow light, was Megan, curled onto the cold floor, hands bound tightly behind her back.

Her once-polished appearance was gone. Bruises bloomed across her face, and her hair looked dull and brittle.

Nathan stopped at the threshold as his eyes locked on the woman before him. He barely recognized her.

The Megan he had once known was proud, poised, and always perfectly put together. But the figure curled up on the grimy floor was drenched, bruised, and filthy. Her once manicured hands were now bloodied and bound tightly behind her back, her designer clothes torn and smeared with dirt.

She looked messy. But he didn’t feel pity. Instead, rage curled into his gut.

He stepped closer.

They had given her everything—a home, a name, unconditional love. And she had thrown it all away like garbage.

Nathan clenched his fists, fighting the storm building inside him. He wanted answers. He wanted to know if she even felt an ounce of regret.

"Wake her up," Augustine ordered.

A guard stepped forward, bucket in hand. Cold water crashed over Megan’s face, yanking her out of unconsciousness with a jolt. She gasped, sputtering, trying to sit up. But the restraints pulled her down. She fell back on the floor, her face hitting hard into the concrete.

She winced in pain. Blinking through the water dripping from her lashes, she looked around in confusion, her vision swimming. Figures surrounded her, looming like shadows. Panic surged in her eyes as she recalled being dragged in, gagged, beaten, and left to bleed into the dust.

She shrank back, trembling. "Please... don’t hit me," she whimpered. "I know I messed up. I’m sorry. Just let me go. I won’t hurt anyone again. I swear."

"Let you go?" Nathan growled, taking a step closer to her. "You stabbed my father, the man who raised you like his own child, who gave you love, shelter, everything." His glare could have burned through steel. "And you tried to kill him."

Megan flinched as the familiar voice seared through the air. Her head snapped up, eyes wide as they locked with Nathan’s. For a second, her face twisted in fear—but then, a flicker of hope sparked.

"Nathan," she gasped. "Please... save me." She inched closer on her knees. "You loved me like a sister for twenty years. You won’t let them kill me, right? You won’t let them hurt me anymore..."

"Save you?" Nathan snapped with contempt. "Did you ever stop to think about that before you betrayed us? We gave you a place in our family. We gave you everything—love, comfort, wealth, status. You were treated like royalty. And how did you repay us? By trying to kill my father. By going after my sister."

He stepped closer, fury blazing in his eyes. "You used to be elegant... respected. A princess of the Granet family. Now look at you—" his eyes swept over her bruised, crumpled form, "—you are nothing but a disgrace."

Bottom of Form

Megan’s pitiful expression dropped. The tears dried. Her face hardened into a sneer.

"You blame me?" she spat. "Your father isn’t the saint you think he is. He ruined my family, framed my father, and sent him to jail over a fake case."

Megan twisted her mouth. "Why? Because the great Oliver Granet couldn’t handle a rumor. He thought his wife was having an affair with his half-brother, so he destroyed them both. That’s your father. That’s the man you are defending."

"Shut up," Nathan lunged, grabbing her throat. "My father didn’t frame anyone. Your father is a criminal. A gangster. He did many crimes, but he was smart enough to hide his crimes."

Megan thrashed beneath Nathan’s grip, her head jerking from side to side as she tried to break free. "You are lying." Her eyes blazed with defiance.

"No," Nathan spat. His hand tightened around her throat. "Every word is the truth."

Augustine had uncovered everything about Hugo, and Nathan had seen the proof with his own eyes.

"My father grew suspicious of his actions and began tracking him in secret, trying to collect solid proof. But Hugo was cunning. He covered his tracks well. All my father could dig up were charges related to tax evasion and money laundering. Still, thanks to his persistence and sharp thinking, he managed to get him convicted with the harshest sentence possible."

Megan snarled, "You are all liars. That bastard Oliver framed my father. And you call him a criminal? You should all burn to hell."

"Shut up." Nathan slapped her.

Megan hit the floor hard, her cheek red and swelling, but she didn’t cry out. Instead, she glared up at him, eyes full of venom.

"You ungrateful snake," Nathan seethed. "We gave you love, a family. And this is how you repay us?" He searched her eyes for even a sliver of remorse but found only hatred staring back at him.

Then Megan laughed like a madwoman. "You’ll get what’s coming," she said, voice rising. "You and your whole family will be torn apart. Just wait."

Fury surged in Nathan again, and he raised his hand to slap her again.

"Enough," Augustine lunged forward, gripping Nathan’s wrist and stopping him. He crouched in front of Megan. "What did you say just now? You are going to destroy the Granet family? How?"

Megan scoffed, refusing to answer. "Like I’d tell you."

Augustine’s jaw flexed tightly, his expression carved from stone. Without another word, he reached behind his back and drew a knife. In one swift, brutal motion, he slashed Megan’s face.

"Ahh..." A scream tore from her throat, and blood mixed with tears streamed down her cheek. "You are insane," she cried out in agony.

"Speak," Augustine growled. "Or I’ll keep cutting until there is nothing left of you."