The iron door to the basement swung wide open. Two guards stepped inside, cut the chains from Anna’s ankles, and carried her back to the main room on the second floor. The doubts Anna had planted in Finley’s mind the day before were beginning to take hold. Moreover, Anna’s weakened physical condition could not be allowed to lead to her death before Finley obtained certainty.
A female doctor arrived to clean the fresh wounds on Anna’s body, applying gauze to her back and ankles. Elsewhere, Lexi was busy contacting her network of informants on the black market. The man began reexamining all the transaction data and surveillance footage from the night Feya was killed.
That afternoon, the door to Anna’s room was shoved roughly open. Finley stepped inside with a thick stack of documents in his hand. His gaze was the same as always, full of vengeance, and his face was taut with anger that had flared up again.
“You think you can fool me with your lies, Anna?” Finley snapped, flinging the documents onto the bed.
Anna, who was sitting back in her chair, simply stared at the scattered sheets of paper. “What’s that?”
“The results of Lexi’s reinvestigation!” Finley snapped, stepping closer to the side of the bed. “All the evidence still points to that bastard of yours! Alden was the last person to call Feya that night. They agreed to meet there before Feya jumped!”
Anna picked up one of the papers, read the brief report on it, then calmly put it back down.
“They did agree to meet—Alden told me so,” Anna said flatly, looking Finley straight in the eye. “But is there any evidence that Alden pushed her? Are there any witnesses who saw Alden lay a hand on her?”
“It was just the two of them there, Anna!” Finley shouted, his chest heaving. “Who else could it be but him?!”
“The person who set them both up,” Anna cut in quickly and rationally. “Feya loved Alden, and Alden cared for Feya. Alden had no reason to kill her. But your enemies have a thousand reasons to make you destroy Alden.”
“Shut up!” Finley lost control.
His emotions erupted instantly. Finley roughly grabbed Anna’s arm, yanked her off the bed, and dragged her until she fell onto the bathroom floor. Anna winced as her wounds tore open again.
Finley grabbed the showerhead and turned it to cold water. Without a shred of mercy, he poured the cold water directly onto Anna’s back, which was covered in open wounds and freshly applied bandages.
Anna screamed in pain. An excruciating sting seared her skin. The cold water made her wounds feel as if they were on fire.
But it didn’t end there. Finley crouched down and pressed his palm hard against the wet bandage on Anna’s back.
“Say it again—that Alden is innocent!” Finley hissed right next to her ear. “Tell me!”
Anna’s body shook violently from the cold and excruciating pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she forced her eyes to stay open. Anna turned her head, staring at Finley, who was standing very close above her.
There was no fear in that woman’s eyes. No hatred or resentment. All that shone from Anna’s eyes was pure sincerity and unbreakable courage.
“You can torture me to death, Finley…” Anna said, struggling slightly as she gasped for breath. “But Alden still didn’t kill Feya… And you… you’re just torturing an innocent person…”
Finley froze.
Anna’s gaze struck Finley’s chest with tremendous force. The sincerity in her eyes suddenly reminded him of the look in Feya’s eyes every time she spoke honestly to him. There was not a trace of deception there.
Finley’s hand, pressed against Anna’s wound, suddenly began to tremble violently. A strange sense of pity and guilt surged into his heart, shattering the rage that had been smoldering inside him.
Finley pulled his hand back instantly, as if Anna’s skin had burned him. He took a step back, staring at his own hand, wet with water and speckled with a thin streak of blood.
“Finley…” Anna called softly, her breath still labored as she lay on the floor.
Finley shook his head, restless and confused by the feelings that had suddenly taken hold of his chest. His pride refused to admit that he was beginning to feel pity for a woman descended from his enemies.
“Be quiet,” Finley said in a voice that was no longer shrill, but low and trembling.
The man turned quickly, stepped out of the bathroom, and left the master bedroom without uttering any more threats. This time, the door closed without a loud slam.
Inside the bathroom, Anna slumped limply onto the wet floor. Her body was still trembling from the pain, but her pale lips curved into a faint smile. Finley had backed down for the first time. The solid wall in the man’s heart was beginning to crack, and the truth was slowly finding its way through.