Chapter 3 · My Blood Is His Old Salvation

Victor's POV

In the basement, Victor's assistant, Terry, stood behind him, watching as he plunged his hand into the icy water. "Sir, you haven't fed in three months.

"If you keep forcing yourself to suppress your instincts like this, sooner or later, it'll come back to bite you."

Victor stared at his pale fingers submerged in the ice water. "Take care of Evelyn's hand. I don't want any scars left."

"Sir..."

"Do it."

Victor closed his eyes, his voice barely audible. "I can't scare her."

Evelyn's POV

The doctor carefully bandaged the wound on my palm.

I sat in the room, staring at my hand wrapped in gauze, my heart still racing out of control.

Victor was protecting his blood source.

He needed me to stay healthy and full of blood, so he wouldn't even let me get a scratch.

I couldn't stay here any longer. I had to get out of here.

My phone screen lit up. It was a message from Lucas Grant.

Lucas was my ex-boyfriend. The day my family went bankrupt, he hooked up with Madeline.

Lucas: [Evelyn, I have the diary your mom left before she died.]

I jerked upright.

Before my mom passed away, she really did have a diary with a little lock on it. It disappeared during a small fire at our house.

I always thought it was lost in the flames.

Then another message popped up. [Come to Room 802 of the Regent Club in half an hour. If you're even a minute late, I'll burn it.]

I stared at my phone, my fingers trembling.

That was the keepsake my mom left for me.

I turned to look out the window.

It was noon, and the sun was beating down hard.

I remembered Mary saying that the monster of the Blackwood family couldn't stand sunlight and never showed his face during the day.

This was my only chance.

I changed into something inconspicuous, avoided the servants in the living room, and snuck out through the side door.

All the way, I kept checking if anyone was tailing me.

It wasn't until I got into the taxi that I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

*****

I pushed open the door to Room 802. The place was hazy with smoke and smelled strongly of alcohol.

Lucas was sprawled out in the middle of the sofa, lazily swirling a glass of red wine in his hand.

There were a few guys I'd never seen before sitting nearby.

"Where's the diary?" I cut straight to the chase.

Lucas gave a lazy grin and set his wine glass down. "Why are you in such a hurry? Come on, have a drink with the guys, and I'll give it to you."

I shot him a cold glare. "Lucas, don't be such a creep."

"Me? A creep?"

He stood up, walked over, and looked me up and down. "Evelyn, why are you acting all pure now?

"You really think that marrying into the Blackwood family makes you some kind of rich lady?"

He leaned in close, lowering his voice. "Come on, it's an open secret that you're just Victor's blood thrall.

"Someday, Victor's gonna lose it and suck you dry. You won't even know how you die."

I clenched my fists. "Where's the diary?"

Lucas pulled out a lighter and flicked it on. "There never was a diary. I lied to you."

He watched my face go ghostly pale, a smug smile spreading across his lips. "I just wanted to see if Victor's blood thrall would show up the second I snapped my fingers."

Lucas picked up the glass from the table and shoved it toward me. "Drink this spiked wine, and I'll let you walk out of here today.

"Or do you want to find out what my buddies might do to you instead?"

I stared at the murky liquid, my stomach twisting with nausea. Then I snatched the glass and splashed it right into Lucas's eyes.

Lucas screamed, covering his eyes in pain.

"Grab her!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice raw with fury.

The men in the room sprang to their feet and rushed at me.

I spun around and bolted for the door.

My hand had barely brushed the doorknob when the double doors groaned and twisted with a harsh, metallic screech.

The metal frame buckled, and the doors were torn open from the outside by sheer force.

I staggered back and crashed to the floor.

Outside the door, Victor stood in the hallway, illuminated by the harsh corridor lights.

He wore a black shirt, his face as pale as death.

The chill in his presence was so intense that no one in the room dared make a sound.

"V-Victor..." Lucas stammered, clutching his eyes, his voice trembling.

Victor didn't even spare him a glance. He strode straight over to me.

Then he bent down and reached out his hand. "Get up."

I stared at his bloodless hand, hesitating, afraid to touch it.

A dark glint flickered in his eyes. He pulled me up with one hand and kept me behind him.

Then he turned to Lucas. "Say it again. What did you just call her?"

Victor's voice was barely above a whisper, but the threat in it was unmistakable.

Lucas stumbled back in terror, his back slamming against the wall. "M-Mr. Blackwood, it's all a misunderstanding."

Victor raised his right hand and seized Lucas's right wrist. With a deceptively gentle twist, he snapped it.

The sickening crack of bone echoed through the room.

Lucas let out a blood-curdling scream.

Victor let go, pulled out a black handkerchief, and methodically wiped his fingers, as if nothing had happened.

"She is afraid of me," Victor said, lowering his gaze to Lucas, who was writhing in pain on the floor. "But no one except me gets to lay a finger on her."

Chapter 3

Victor's POV

In the basement, Victor's assistant, Terry, stood behind him, watching as he plunged his hand into the icy water. "Sir, you haven't fed in three months.

"If you keep forcing yourself to suppress your instincts like this, sooner or later, it'll come back to bite you."

Victor stared at his pale fingers submerged in the ice water. "Take care of Evelyn's hand. I don't want any scars left."

"Sir..."

"Do it."

Victor closed his eyes, his voice barely audible. "I can't scare her."

Evelyn's POV

The doctor carefully bandaged the wound on my palm.

I sat in the room, staring at my hand wrapped in gauze, my heart still racing out of control.

Victor was protecting his blood source.

He needed me to stay healthy and full of blood, so he wouldn't even let me get a scratch.

I couldn't stay here any longer. I had to get out of here.

My phone screen lit up. It was a message from Lucas Grant.

Lucas was my ex-boyfriend. The day my family went bankrupt, he hooked up with Madeline.

Lucas: [Evelyn, I have the diary your mom left before she died.]

I jerked upright.

Before my mom passed away, she really did have a diary with a little lock on it. It disappeared during a small fire at our house.

I always thought it was lost in the flames.

Then another message popped up. [Come to Room 802 of the Regent Club in half an hour. If you're even a minute late, I'll burn it.]

I stared at my phone, my fingers trembling.

That was the keepsake my mom left for me.

I turned to look out the window.

It was noon, and the sun was beating down hard.

I remembered Mary saying that the monster of the Blackwood family couldn't stand sunlight and never showed his face during the day.

This was my only chance.

I changed into something inconspicuous, avoided the servants in the living room, and snuck out through the side door.

All the way, I kept checking if anyone was tailing me.

It wasn't until I got into the taxi that I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

*****

I pushed open the door to Room 802. The place was hazy with smoke and smelled strongly of alcohol.

Lucas was sprawled out in the middle of the sofa, lazily swirling a glass of red wine in his hand.

There were a few guys I'd never seen before sitting nearby.

"Where's the diary?" I cut straight to the chase.

Lucas gave a lazy grin and set his wine glass down. "Why are you in such a hurry? Come on, have a drink with the guys, and I'll give it to you."

I shot him a cold glare. "Lucas, don't be such a creep."

"Me? A creep?"

He stood up, walked over, and looked me up and down. "Evelyn, why are you acting all pure now?

"You really think that marrying into the Blackwood family makes you some kind of rich lady?"

He leaned in close, lowering his voice. "Come on, it's an open secret that you're just Victor's blood thrall.

"Someday, Victor's gonna lose it and suck you dry. You won't even know how you die."

I clenched my fists. "Where's the diary?"

Lucas pulled out a lighter and flicked it on. "There never was a diary. I lied to you."

He watched my face go ghostly pale, a smug smile spreading across his lips. "I just wanted to see if Victor's blood thrall would show up the second I snapped my fingers."

Lucas picked up the glass from the table and shoved it toward me. "Drink this spiked wine, and I'll let you walk out of here today.

"Or do you want to find out what my buddies might do to you instead?"

I stared at the murky liquid, my stomach twisting with nausea. Then I snatched the glass and splashed it right into Lucas's eyes.

Lucas screamed, covering his eyes in pain.

"Grab her!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice raw with fury.

The men in the room sprang to their feet and rushed at me.

I spun around and bolted for the door.

My hand had barely brushed the doorknob when the double doors groaned and twisted with a harsh, metallic screech.

The metal frame buckled, and the doors were torn open from the outside by sheer force.

I staggered back and crashed to the floor.

Outside the door, Victor stood in the hallway, illuminated by the harsh corridor lights.

He wore a black shirt, his face as pale as death.

The chill in his presence was so intense that no one in the room dared make a sound.

"V-Victor..." Lucas stammered, clutching his eyes, his voice trembling.

Victor didn't even spare him a glance. He strode straight over to me.

Then he bent down and reached out his hand. "Get up."

I stared at his bloodless hand, hesitating, afraid to touch it.

A dark glint flickered in his eyes. He pulled me up with one hand and kept me behind him.

Then he turned to Lucas. "Say it again. What did you just call her?"

Victor's voice was barely above a whisper, but the threat in it was unmistakable.

Lucas stumbled back in terror, his back slamming against the wall. "M-Mr. Blackwood, it's all a misunderstanding."

Victor raised his right hand and seized Lucas's right wrist. With a deceptively gentle twist, he snapped it.

The sickening crack of bone echoed through the room.

Lucas let out a blood-curdling scream.

Victor let go, pulled out a black handkerchief, and methodically wiped his fingers, as if nothing had happened.

"She is afraid of me," Victor said, lowering his gaze to Lucas, who was writhing in pain on the floor. "But no one except me gets to lay a finger on her."