Chapter 230 Cut Off His Hands
Byron’s cold, calculating gaze fixed on Athena as her desperate pleas reached his ears, yet they seemed to have no effect on him. His grip tightened around her chin as her tears fell freely, each drop slicing through his resolve. But in the pit of his stomach, something twisted, something darker—and more possessive—awoke. Athena’s distress seemed to fuel his fury, not quell it.
She was crying for George, a man who wasn’t him. The realization gnawed at him, making his actions more erratic and extreme. Her loyalty was no longer clear to him, and the jealousy that festered inside him threatened to overtake everything.
“Byron!” Athena’s voice cracked, her breath coming in shaky gasps as she tried to push away from him. “Please… you can’t do this.”
But his cold, unyielding eyes only seemed to darken.
“Do you think I’ll just stand by while you run to another man? After everything I’ve done for you?” Byron sneered, his voice dripping with venom. “After everything I’ve given you, you still throw it all away?”
Outside the car, George struggled against the bodyguards’ grip, his face a mixture of pain and determination. He knew he couldn’t win a physical battle here, but the desperation in Athena’s eyes urged him to push harder, to resist. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight, not for his own sake, but for her.
But Byron wasn’t listening. His mind was fixed on one thing—his loss. He had lost Athena’s love, lost her trust, and now, in his twisted perception, he was going to lose her to George. He couldn’t allow it. Not now.
“Stop it, Byron!” Athena shouted again, more fiercely this time, her hands trembling as she gripped his arm. “Don’t make me beg you. Don’t make me plead for his life.”
The sound of the dagger’s blade scraping the ground only heightened the tension. The bodyguards stood firm, their expressions unreadable as they prepared to follow their orders.
Athena’s mind raced. She had to stop this. She couldn’t let Byron destroy the man she cared for, no matter the complicated feelings between them. George’s life, his career—it all depended on this moment. She couldn’t let it all be for nothing.
“Byron, please!” Athena’s voice broke, desperation creeping into every syllable. “I’ll do anything, but not this. Not George!”
Her tears only made him angrier, her brokenness fueling his rage. But beneath his anger, a seed of doubt began to sprout. The vulnerability in her eyes, the way she begged for George’s safety—it wasn’t just about the doctor. It was about something deeper, something he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried to push it down.
Byron’s gaze flicked to George, who was still struggling beneath the weight of the bodyguards. His pale face, a mixture of pain and fear, stared back at him. Byron’s heart pounded in his chest, and for the first time in a long time, his anger faltered. Athena’s words rang in his ears.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I can’t lose him.”
Byron’s grip on her chin loosened as his gaze softened, ever so slightly. But it wasn’t enough. The pain and betrayal gnawing at him refused to let go.
“Why does it always have to be someone else?” Byron muttered under his breath, mostly to himself. “Why can’t you just be mine?”
The bodyguards hesitated, sensing the shift in their employer’s demeanor. Athena, however, didn’t wait for Byron to make up his mind. She pushed herself away from him and threw open the car door, rushing out.
“Stop! Stop this!” she screamed at the men holding George. “He’s not the enemy!”
Byron made no move to stop her. Instead, he watched as Athena knelt beside George, her hands trembling as she checked him over.
“Are you okay?” she whispered, her voice filled with concern. George didn’t answer right away, still dazed from the rough treatment, but he managed a small, pained smile.
“I’m fine. But you…” George’s gaze flicked to Byron, his face hardening. “You need to get out of here. This man’s lost his mind.”
Byron stepped out of the car, his eyes locked on Athena, but his face was unreadable.
“You think this is over, Athena?” he asked quietly, but with a cold edge. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
Athena stood up slowly, her back to him as she helped George to his feet. “It’s over, Byron,” she said softly, but firmly. “It was never supposed to start in the first place.”
The words hit Byron harder than anything else. His mind raced, spinning with confusion, rage, and something else—something unfamiliar, something he couldn’t quite name.
“Get in the car,” he ordered the bodyguards coldly, turning his back on them. “We’re leaving.”
As they drove away, Athena and George stood in the parking lot, their gazes lingering on the retreating car. Neither spoke at first, the silence hanging heavy between them.
Finally, George broke it. “Are you sure this is the right decision?”
Athena took a deep breath, wiping away the last of her tears. “I don’t know. But it’s the only choice I have left.”