Chapter 1303:
The room was wrapped in a thick, heavy silence. No one knew how long it lasted until his subordinate finally spoke.
“Sir, you need to get that wound treated right away. If you wait any longer, it could get infected…”
As soon as he finished, silence returned, even heavier than before.
Terrence didn’t move; his gaze stayed fixed on the dark horizon. After what felt like forever, his voice finally broke the quiet, low and detached.
“Get the doctor here,” he said flatly, his tone cold and stripped of its usual teasing edge.
His faintly glimmering eyes looked deep, unreadable, like still water hiding a storm beneath.
“Yes, sir!” his subordinate answered quickly before rushing out to summon Terrence’s private doctor.
A short while later, the doctor arrived.
Setting his medical kit on the table, the doctor bowed slightly. “Sir, please take off your shirt.”
Terrence didn’t respond. He finished the last of his wine in one slow gulp and wordlessly extended the empty glass. His subordinate stepped forward right away, taking the glass from him carefully and setting it quietly on the table.
Terrence slowly unbuttoned his cuffs and shirt, his attention still fixed on the view outside.
He slipped off his black jacket, revealing a crisp white shirt beneath.
The white fabric was already blotched with dark red blood. Its stark color striking against the pale cloth.
He peeled off the shirt completely, revealing strong shoulders and a lean, well-defined frame.
When his back was fully exposed, the sight was enough to make anyone fall silent.
His back was marred by countless whip marks, each one cruelly carved into his flesh.
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Old and new scars intertwined, like a pattern branded deep into his skin.
Every mark told a story of brutal suffering, stirring pity and quiet anger in anyone who looked at them.
Terrence hadn’t endured lashes like these since his youth. The old scars on his body were reminders of the punishments he had endured when he was younger.
The fresh wounds were from disobeying his grandfather’s commands. After a long time, he once again felt the sharp sting of the whip.
He remembered how much it had hurt before, but this time, the pain in his body was nothing compared to the deep ache in his chest.
As the private doctor cleaned his wounds, Terrence flinched. His hands, hanging at his sides, slowly curled into tight fists.
The pain burned through his skin, but what made it unbearable was the memory of that heartbreaking moment replaying in his mind.
Even though Christina didn’t care about him, he didn’t regret going against his grandfather. He was ready to risk everything just to make sure she was safe.
If his grandfather refused to back down, Christina’s life would remain in danger.
No matter how strong she was, she was still human. Sooner or later, she wouldn’t be able to survive endless assassination attempts.
But once he destroyed Dylan and the entire Scott family, Christina would finally be out of danger.
Terrence felt torn and heartbroken that she had never once looked back at him, yet strangely relieved that he could still fight to make his grandfather show her mercy.
His emotions were all over the place, but his resolve stayed firm. No matter the cost, he had made up his mind. Christina would be his.
He wanted to give her the very best life could offer.
Whatever Christina wanted, he would go to the ends of the world to get it for her.
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