Chapter 10
“Then enjoy the role while it lasts,” I said.
Vivian lifted her injured wrist, eyes glittering with hatred. “You’re going to kneel, apologize, and open those doors. Then you’re going to fix my hand. If it’s not perfect by tomorrow, I’ll make sure you regret being born.”
Lucas frowned slightly, as if even he thought she had gone too far, but he said nothing.
I looked at Vivian for a long moment.
“I’m not killing you yet,” I said softly, “because death would be too merciful. What you did to my sister, I’m going to return to you piece by piece.”
Then I turned to Lucas.
“And you. Don’t think I forgot you. None of this would have happened without your permission.”
His face hardened. “Earlier, we were surprised. That’s all. But my family didn’t build an empire by being frightened by street tricks.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Then perhaps the earlier lesson wasn’t enough. Should I raise the price? Maybe this time, both your legs?”
Lucas’s expression turned dangerous. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oh?” I said. “Watch me.”
Before either of us could say more, a deep voice thundered from the entrance.
“Who dares threaten my daughter?”
The restaurant doors opened.
A middle-aged man in a tailored suit strode in with a large security team around him. Beside him walked an elderly monk in fine saffron robes, holding polished prayer beads that gleamed beneath the lights.
The moment I saw him, my heart sank.
This man was no fraud playing at mysticism for society women. He carried real presence.
Vivian ran straight to her father. “Dad! It’s her! She broke my hand!”
Her father immediately turned to the monk. “Master Hale, please look.”
The old monk touched Vivian’s wrist gently with two fingers and murmured something beneath his breath.
To my shock, the twisted joint straightened.
Vivian flexed her fingers and gasped. The pain vanished from her face.
For the first time that night, cold unease slid through me.
My cursed words had always come true. Always.
Yet this man had undone one with ease.
I forced myself to stay calm and said, “Master, why involve yourself in worldly cruelty?”
He lowered his gaze and said nothing for a while. Then he replied, “You wear sacred clothing. Why use it to harm others?”
I laughed without humor. “Harm? These people destroy women for entertainment. I came for justice.”
But the monk closed his eyes as though I disgusted him.
My anger flared.
So that was it.
Another holy-looking man serving wealth.
Another polished face standing guard over evil.
Fine.
Then I would show him what happened when he stood on the wrong side of my mouth.