Third person's pov 

As the doors of the courtroom closed, the silence that followed felt like a physical weight, pressing down on Elijah, Maxim, Lorenzo, and Ethan. The finality of the judge’s decision, the sight of their sister being pulled away, her pleading look as she was forced back into the hands of the man who had done nothing but harm her—it replayed in their minds, each moment etched deep in a painful clarity.

They had promised her she’d be safe. They’d promised that they would stand between her and Arthur, and now… he’d walked away with her, dragging her back into a nightmare they couldn’t touch.

Maxim clenched his fists, his knuckles white, the anger still simmering just below the surface. He couldn’t shake the image of Miray’s terrified eyes, the way she’d looked at them, silently begging them to stop it. And they couldn’t. Maxim let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in his eyes. “That smug bastard. He knew he’d won before we even walked in there. Did you see his face? He knew he was going to take her back the whole time.”

Lorenzo nodded, his jaw clenched tight. “He twisted everything. All of it, just… just turned it all around on her. Made her look like some… rebellious kid instead of the person he’s been controlling for so long.”

Elijah could only nod, the memory of Arthur’s smug look seared into his mind. Arthur's voice  echoed in his mind, and he clenched his fists, his entire body tight with the fury and helplessness he’d barely kept in check.

Ethan’s voice broke through, quieter than usual, a hollow edge to it. “We failed her.... we told her she’d be safe,” he said, his voice catching. “We… we promised her that he’d never touch her again. That he’d never be able to hurt her like that…”

Elijah turned, seeing Ethan’s shoulders hunched, his head down, hands clenched so tight they were white. He watched as Ethan’s face twisted, the words coming out choked and shaky. “I hate that he has her,” Ethan continued, his voice cracking, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We couldn’t even… she was right there, and we couldn’t do anything. I just—”

Elijah put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tremor there, the pain so deep that words couldn’t reach it. Ethan’s breathing was ragged, his shoulders shaking, and the sight cut through Elijah’s own carefully held composure, letting the weight of their loss settle in.

Maxim looked away, his own jaw clenched, the tension radiating from him as he fought back his own grief. “We can’t… we can’t leave her there, Eli She’s alone with him now, and… and we don’t know what he’ll do.” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “She doesn’t deserve this.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Elijah agreed, his own voice barely steady. 

The thought settled in, their minds racing with all the ways Arthur could punish her now that she’d dared to defy him in public. The idea of her suffering while they sat helpless—it gnawed at each of them in ways they couldn’t fully express.

Elijah took a deep breath, pushing down the urge to punch something, anything, just to release the rage and helplessness he felt. “But we’re not done. I don’t care how long it takes; I don’t care what we have to do. We are getting her out of there.”

Lorenzo nodded, a hard edge in his voice. “We stick together. For her. No matter how long it takes.”

Standing in the cold, sterile hallway, all of them  shared a wordless promise, the weight of it settling in their bones. 

They had lost this battle, but the war still raged on.....

---

The engine roared to life, and the sound felt like a death sentence in Miray’s ears. The car sped away from the courthouse, the city lights quickly disappearing behind them as Arthur gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white. The silence between them was thick with menace, the air in the car stifling despite the cool night outside. Miray sat frozen in the passenger seat, her heart pounding in her chest, her skin crawling with dread.

He hadn’t said a word since they left the courtroom, but the tension in the air was unbearable. His cold eyes remained fixed on the road, his lips pressed into a thin line, his entire body vibrating with a barely restrained rage.

Miray’s hands trembled in her lap, her mind racing as she glanced out of the window. They weren’t heading home—this route was unfamiliar. The buildings around them gave way to more isolated, abandoned streets, and the lights grew dimmer as they ventured farther from the city.

Fear gnawed at her insides, her breath shallow as she glanced over at her father, trying to muster the courage to speak. “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper, thick with apprehension.

Arthur didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, and the muscles in his hands flexed as he gripped the steering wheel harder. The car sped up, the tires kicking up dirt as they veered onto a nearly deserted road.

The silence was suffocating.

Miray’s pulse quickened, her mind spinning with the terrifying possibilities of where he could be taking her. She shifted nervously in her seat, her hands twisting together as she tried to keep her breathing steady. But the panic was building, clawing at her throat, tightening with every passing minute.

Her gaze flicked out of the window again. They were passing rows of dilapidated warehouses, the windows shattered, the walls covered in graffiti. The city was long gone, and all that was left was darkness and decay.

Her stomach churned with fear as the car slowed down and pulled off the main road, crunching over gravel as they approached one of the more isolated buildings. The warehouse loomed in front of them, its rusted metal doors barely hanging on their hinges, the place looking like it had been abandoned for years. The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the structure, casting eerie shadows over the broken windows and decaying walls.

Arthur slammed on the brakes, and the car jerked to a stop in front of the warehouse. He turned to her, his expression twisted with a mixture of rage and something far darker. Without a word, he shoved open his door and rounded the car to her side, wrenching her door open with such force that it made her flinch.

"Get out," he growled, grabbing her arm in a bruising grip before she could even react.

Miray stumbled as he yanked her from the car, her feet barely finding traction on the gravel. Her heart pounded violently in her chest, terror seizing her as he dragged her toward the warehouse, his grip unyielding, her body nearly tripping over the rocks beneath her feet.

The inside of the warehouse was worse than she had imagined. The air was thick with dampness and decay, the floors littered with broken glass and debris. The walls were cracked, and the only light came from the moon filtering through the broken windows. The place reeked of abandonment, of forgotten lives, of despair.

Arthur threw her to the ground, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. She gasped, trying to catch her breath as she scrambled to her knees, but he was on her in an instant.

"Did you really think you could get away from me?" he hissed, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back so hard that her scalp burned. "You humiliated me. Made me look bad in front of that court, in front of your brothers. You thought they could save you?"

Miray whimpered, her body trembling as he yanked harder, pulling her across the floor. Her skin scraped against the rough concrete, the sharp edges of broken glass slicing through her clothes, cutting into her flesh. The pain was overwhelming, but the fear was worse.

He threw her against the wall, her head snapping back with a sickening thud. Her vision blurred as she slumped to the floor, her body screaming in agony.

"Stand up!" he snarled, kicking her hard in the stomach. The force of the blow made her double over, gasping for air, her ribs aching with every breath. Blood dripped from her split lip, staining the floor beneath her.

But he wasn’t done.

Arthur crouched down beside her, his hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing just enough to send a fresh wave of panic through her. She clawed at his hand, desperate to breathe, but his grip only tightened.

"You look pathetic, Miray," He sneered, crouching down beside her. His hand reached out, his fingers tracing the bruises on her cheek with disturbing calm.

Miray winced at his touch, her throat tight with fear and confusion. "Why… why do you hate me so much?" she choked out, her voice trembling.

Arthur’s lips curled into a twisted smile, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You really want to know why, don’t you?"

 He leaned in closer, his breath hot against her ear. "Because you’re the reason she’s dead. Your mother."

Miray’s heart froze, her mind reeling. She struggled to process his words, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. "W-what…?".

Your mother," he spat, his voice filled with venom, "was a cheating whore."Arthur’s expression hardened, his grip tightening on her hair as he pulled her head back, forcing her to look into his eyes. "She cheated on me. Slept around like the filthy woman she was, and then died giving birth to you." His voice was laced with hatred, his eyes dark with fury. "You’re the reminder of everything she took from me. Every time I look at you, I see her betrayal, her lies. That’s why I hate you, Miray. Because you’re her legacy of shame."

His words sent chills through her, but what came next shattered her.

"I… I didn’t know," she whispered, tears spilling down her bruised cheeks. "I didn’t—"

"Of course you didn’t," Arthur spat, his voice low and dangerous. "You were born into this world as a burden. A curse. And now, you think you can escape me? You think those brothers of yours will save you?" He laughed darkly, pulling her face closer until his lips were inches from hers. "They don’t want you. You aren't their real sister. You’re a burden to them too. They’ll hate you when they find out what you really are."

Miray shook her head weakly, trying to deny it, but the pain in her chest—both physical and emotional—was too much to bear. Her father’s words burrowed deep into her mind, filling her with doubt and despair.

"They’ll resent you," Arthur whispered, his tone dripping with malice. "They’re stuck with you now, but when they realize you’re the reason their lives fell apart, they’ll wish they’d left you with me. They’ll see you for the useless, broken thing you are. They’ll hate you, Miray. Just like I do."

Tears streamed down her face as she tried to push away his words, but they clung to her like poison. The brothers—her only source of protection, her lifeline—now felt impossibly far away. What if he was right? What if they really did see her as a burden?

Arthur released her, standing up and looking down at her with contempt. "I’ve kept this to myself long enough," he said, his voice cold. "But you should know—every bruise, every scar I’ve given you—was because you remind me of her. You’re a constant reminder of my humiliation. And you deserve every bit of it."

He pulled out his phone, the blue light casting shadows over his face as he aimed the camera at her. Miray’s chest tightened as she struggled to breathe, every bone in her body aching with pain.

"Time to show your precious brothers just how much control I have over you," he sneered, switching the camera to video. "They think they’re your saviors, don’t they? Let’s see how they like watching you suffer."

He grabbed her by the hair again, yanking her up into a sitting position. Miray winced, fresh tears mixing with the blood on her face. She tried to turn away, but Arthur held her in place, forcing her to look at the camera.

"Say hello to your brothers," Arthur mocked, his voice dripping with cruelty. "Tell them how much fun you’re having."

Miray’s voice was barely a whisper, choked with fear and pain. "P-please… stop…"

But Arthur only laughed, gripping her hair tighter. "Oh no, we’re just getting started. Smile for them."

He moved his foot to her side and kicked her again, this time harder, driving his boot into her ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the warehouse as she screamed, the pain unbearable, the world spinning around her. She could feel the blood pooling under her, staining her torn clothes, her vision spinning. 

"Tell your brothers what I’ve told you," Arthur hissed, holding the phone closer to her face. "Tell them how much of a burden you really are. How they’ll hate you."

Miray sobbed, her body trembling violently. Her mind was a storm of pain and fear, her father’s words ringing in her ears, each one a dagger to her heart. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but she was too weak, too broken.

He moved the phone to record her battered form, capturing every bruise, every drop of blood that soaked her clothes and the floor. Her skin was covered in gashes, her clothes torn, and her face was swollen, the once familiar features now barely recognizable beneath the layers of blood and bruises.

 "Look at you. They’ll never look at you the same way after this." Arthur mocked, his voice low and venomous. "You’ll never be free of me. And your brothers will  wish they left you here."

Inside, Miray felt something crumble. She wasn’t sure she could hold on any longer.

He ended the video with a sickening smite and sent it to the brothers with a quick tap of the screen, then snapped another picture of her lifeless form. Her body lay crumpled on the floor, blood dripping from her nose and mouth, her skin covered in bruises.

He typed furiously, sending the video and picture to her brothers. "I’ll be sending more of these if they try anything."

Miray’s body convulsed once more, her vision fading as the pain consumed her. The last thing she heard before she passed out was the sound of the message being sent.