Chapter 31-Gabriel's pov(final part)

As the days passed with Betty shut away, I discreetly investigated the truth. A part of me clung to the hope that my father wouldn't betray decades of trust and friendship. But that glimmer of hope was extinguished when Pete approached me with a somber expression.

"He told me to inform you," Pete said, his voice low and serious, "that your father has prepared a gift for you at Wu's house. An elaborate one."

I rushed to Wu's house, instructing Pete to keep a watchful eye on Betty. As I arrived, a sense of trepidation settled in. The scene that awaited me was gruesome and appalling.

As I stepped inside, I was met with a ghastly sight. Wu's lifeless body lay on the floor, his limbs and torso meticulously arranged to create the illusion of wholeness. However, upon closer inspection, the gruesome reality became apparent. His body had been sliced into pieces, expertly rearranged to conceal the true extent of the brutality. The deliberate placement of his body parts was a twisted attempt to create a macabre facade, a testament to the sheer cruelty and calculation of the perpetrator.

A small, circular wound marred Wu's forehead, a gruesome testament to the violent end he had met. The gunshot entry point was neat, with a faint ring of powder burn surrounding it, indicating a close-range shot. The skin around the wound was reddened and slightly raised, a stark contrast to the pale, lifeless complexion of his face.

A seething rage ignited within me, fueled by the brutal sight before me. My father's depravity knew no bounds, and his actions were a stark reminder of the monster he truly was. The calculated execution, the deliberate arrangement of Wu's body parts – every detail screamed of my father's involvement. My anger boiled over, threatening to consume me whole. I felt my jaw clench, my fists tremble, and my heart burn with an unquenchable fury. The man who had given me life had also taken Wu's, and for that, I would never forgive him.

A raging tempest erupted within me as I gazed upon Wu's lifeless body. The man who had been a father to me, who had guided me, protected me, and loved me unconditionally, lay slaughtered before me. My father's barbaric act was a desecration of everything Wu had represented - kindness, wisdom, and selflessness.

The anguish that gripped my heart was suffocating. I felt as though I'd lost a part of myself, a part that could never be restored. The pain of Wu's senseless murder seared my soul, and my father's betrayal ignited an unquenchable fire of fury within me.

I summoned one of my men to bring a casket, desperate to afford Wu's lifeless body a semblance of dignity, sparing him the cold, hard floor. But when he arrived, he bore devastating news: my father had decreed that Wu's body remain there, defiled and exposed. The messenger's words dripped with malice, as he taunted me with an unspeakable threat: Betty's life hung in the balance, hostage to my father's whims.

Fury incinerated my reason, propelling me toward my father's office with reckless abandon. I stormed in, slamming the door behind me. "How could you do that?" I thundered, my voice shattering the air.

"He was your friend!" I spat, incredulous.

My father's gaze remained icy, his voice detached. "He stopped being my friend the day you both conspired against me."

I felt a surge of outrage. "He just wanted to live a normal life!" I yelled.

My father's expression twisted into a sneer. "And he did."

"FATHER!" I roared, my anger boiling over.

My father slammed his fist on the desk, making me jump. "DON'T YELL AT ME, I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE!" he thundered, his face reddening.

For an instant, I felt a twinge of fear, a fleeting reminder of the man's unpredictable temper and capacity for violence.

"I will not tolerate your insolence," my father warned, his voice low and menacing.

I stood my ground, demanding answers. "What do you want? Why did you kill him? And why won't you give him the decency of a proper burial?"

My father's expression remained impassive, a mask of stone. With a dismissive wave of his hand, he signaled the end of our conversation.

I bit back my retort, wary of pushing my luck. Instead, I turned and left his office, my mind racing with thoughts of Wu and the danger that now loomed over Betty.

I made my way to Ryan's apartment, determined to find a way to reach Betty. Despite sending the cook and some of my men to try and comfort her, she remained unresponsive. I needed someone to break through to her, to prepare her for the harsh reality of her situation.

I asked Ryan to meet with Betty, to gently inform her of some of the events that had transpired, and to subtly warn her of the peril that now threatened her.

Ryan met with her a few days later after deliberating on what to tell her and what was off limits. We had a conversation the night Ryan met with her and I could feel her tense up. I wanted her to be comfortable with me.

In an attempt to lighten the mood and calm her down, I teased her playfully, but my efforts only seemed to backfire. Instead of relaxing, her tension escalated, her body language becoming increasingly rigid.

The next morning at breakfast, I approached Betty with a gentle request: to do her makeup and hair. But she dismissed me curtly. A strange, unsettling emotion swirled inside me, catching me off guard. Before I could compose myself, I snapped at her. Instantly regretful, I tried to make amends.

But my efforts only seemed to backfire. Instead of relaxing, Betty's tension escalated, her body language becoming increasingly rigid. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a strained tone as she began talking about returning to her Avenue Street residence.

A chill ran down my spine. I couldn't bear the thought of her witnessing the horrific scene that still lingered in that house. Unbeknownst to me, my words betrayed a dark truth: Wu's body had been denied the dignity of rest.

Betty's eyes clouded with hurt as she absorbed my words, and a pang shot through my heart. I desperately wanted to erase the pain of Wu's loss, to fill the void he'd left behind. But every word I spoke seemed to push her further away, her heartbreak deepening with each careless phrase.

Frustrated and disappointed, I fell back on a mundane concern. I asked her to eat before the food got cold, my voice tinged with regret.

I quickly finished my meal, eager to escape the room before I inflicted any more hurt. But as I turned to leave, Betty suddenly threw herself at my feet, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.

I hastened to help her up, taken aback by her desperation. And then, a calculated idea struck me. I asked her to date me.

I hoped that by becoming her partner, she would soon grow dependent on me, and the void left by Wu's absence would be filled. I would become her new anchor, her new source of comfort. And with time, she would forget the pain of her past.

She agreed, and elation washed over me. I pulled her close, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. But as our mouths touched, I sensed a stiffness in her body. I whispered for her to kiss me back, and slowly, she began to relax into the kiss. Our lips moved in perfect harmony, the world around us melting away.

But our intimate moment was short-lived. The sound of the front door swinging open broke the spell, and I reluctantly parted from her .

As I worked on my laptop the next morning, Betty slipped into my room to gently announce that she'd made breakfast. I acknowledged her message, and she quietly withdrew.

But she didn't stay away for long. Betty returned a few hours later, settling into the room with an air of comfort. We chatted idly for a while, our conversation flowing easily, until we finally lapsed into a peaceful silence.

As the evening wore on, Betty and I grew closer, our connection deepening. I turned to her, asking if she'd accompany me to a party the following day. She agreed, and I looked forward to sharing the experience with her.

But the next evening, at the party, I couldn't find Betty anywhere. Panic set in as I wondered if she'd slipped away from me. My heart sank, and I felt a growing sense of unease.

Charles approached me, informing me that he'd seen her leaving. I hastily dialed her number, relief washing over me when she answered. She was just in the next house, but my emotions were in turmoil.

A strange, unsettling feeling took hold of me, and I snapped at her again. The sound of her voice, usually a balm to my frazzled nerves, now grated on me.

The ride home was a silent, tense affair. My mind replayed all the terrible things that could have happened if my father had gotten his hands on her while I was distracted. Fear gripped my heart like a vice.

As soon as we arrived at our apartment, I needed reassurance that she was still by my side. I pulled her to the living area, my lips seeking hers in a flurry of kisses. I was desperate to hold onto her, to keep her safe from harm.

As I walked past a coffee shop a few days later at school, a scene unfolded before my eyes that made my heart twist with jealousy. Betty sat across from another guy, her face alight with laughter as they chatted. I felt a surge of possessiveness, my emotions simmering just below the surface.

Without thinking, I followed them as they left the shop. My anger boiled over when I heard them mention sharing two classes together. In a moment of blind rage, I dragged Betty back to the coffee shop.

In the heat of the moment, I committed an act that would have far-reaching consequences, one that I would forever regret.

I was a slave to my emotions, helpless to rein them in as they raged like a tempest within me. Time and again, I found myself succumbing to their power, losing control as they surged to the surface.

It was as if I was possessed by a dark force, one that drove me to hurt the very person I loved most. Betty, with her gentle soul and loving heart, was the innocent victim of my emotional turmoil.

I couldn't understand why I kept hurting her, why I couldn't seem to break free from the cycle of pain and regret. It was as if I was trapped in a never-ending nightmare, forced to watch in horror as I lashed out at the one person who I desperately wanted to love me.

In the aftermath of each outburst, I was left feeling shattered and ashamed, wondering how I could ever make amends for the hurt I'd caused. Yet, despite my best intentions, I couldn't seem to escape the darkness that lurked within me, waiting to strike again.