Return Of The Heiress For Revenge - Chapter 258

Chapter 258: Mercy!

Meanwhile, Alric was locked in a brutal struggle with the remaining goon. Despite the blood dripping from his leg, he fought with a feral intensity. The man swung wildly, his fists aiming for Alric’s face, but Alric sidestepped and countered with a crushing blow to the man’s throat.

The goon wheezed, clutching his neck, but Alric didn’t relent. He grabbed the man by the collar and slammed him against the wall, delivering a series of punches that left the man dazed and bloody.

The leader managed to grab Nora by the hair, yanking her toward the bed. She cried out but retaliated with a swift kick to his shin, forcing him to release her. With a burst of adrenaline, she tackled him to the ground, straddling his chest as she rained punches on his face.

“Not so tough now, are you?” she spat, her voice filled with venom.

The leader tried to push her off, but Alric was there in an instant. He dragged the man up by his collar and slammed him onto the floor with a bone-jarring thud.

Panting, Nora retrieved the discarded gun, her hands trembling but steady as she pointed it at the two men now sprawled on the floor.

Alric wiped blood from the corner of his mouth and turned to her, his gaze unreadable. “You did well,” he said simply, his voice calm despite the chaos around them.

The leader groaned, attempting to crawl away, but Nora took a step forward, the barrel of the gun trained on his head.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said coldly.

The man froze, his defiance replaced by fear. Alric limped to her side, his imposing presence a silent warning to anyone who might try to intervene.

For the first time, the room was eerily silent, save for the ragged breaths of their defeated enemies.

Alric limped toward Zen, his dark eyes unreadable but cold as death. Every step was measured, deliberate, the scrape of his boots against the floor amplifying the tension in the room. The leader whimpered, trying to crawl backward, but Alric reached him with unnerving calm. Without a word, he straddled Zen’s chest, his weight pinning the man to the ground.

“Let me go,” Zen rasped, his voice shaky, panic seeping into every syllable. “We are ready to surrender to the police..”

Alric said nothing. Instead, he reached down and picked up the dagger he had spotted earlier, its blade glinting faintly under the dim light. His grip on the hilt was steady, almost reverent, as if it were an extension of his own hand.

Zen thrashed beneath him, but Alric’s knees dug into his arms, holding him in place with brutal efficiency. The fear in the room was palpable, the defeated goon cowering in the corner, Nora standing frozen, the gun still trained on the pair.

Alric held up Zen’s trembling hand, his expression devoid of emotion, as if what he was about to do was nothing more than a mundane task.

“I have warned you not to touch her.,” Alric said softly, his tone calm and measured, sending chills down everyone’s spine.

The first slice was deliberate, surgical, as the blade severed Zen’s pinky finger. A scream tore from the man’s throat, but Alric didn’t even flinch. Blood pooled on the floor as Zen writhed, his face contorted in agony.

“One,” Alric murmured, his voice eerily serene.

He moved to the next finger, the blade gliding through flesh with horrifying precision.

“Two,” he said, his gaze still fixed on Zen, whose cries grew more desperate with every cut.

“Stop! Please!” Zen begged, tears streaming down his face.

Nora’s knuckles were white as she gripped the gun, her breathing shallow. “Alric,” she said, her voice trembling. “That’s enough.”

But Alric didn’t stop.

“Three,” he counted, the word falling from his lips like a death knell as he severed another finger.

By the time he reached the fourth, Zen was sobbing incoherently, his strength shattered. his pride reduced to nothing but broken pieces scattered on the bloodied floor.

Finally, Alric paused, his blade hovering over the last finger. He looked up at Nora, his expression inscrutable, then back at Zen.

“This,” he said quietly, “is mercy. You must be glad that I do not have time to dismember you..”

With that, he drove the dagger into the floor beside Zen’s hand, leaving it there as a silent reminder of his fury. He stood, swaying slightly from the pain in his leg, and turned to Nora.

“We’re done here,” he said simply, his voice flat.

Zen lay on the ground, clutching his mutilated hand, too broken to even move. The other goon cowered in the corner, his face pale as he avoided Alric’s gaze.

Nora lowered the gun, her heart pounding. “You scared the hell out of me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dozens of men surrounded the building. They took the benefit of chaos and ran straight to the stairs. Signal on their screen was helping them. But when they reached the third floor, they were stunned to see that all the criminals were handled.

They were worried all this time what would happen if they would be late? The answer was clear, they were not needed! If they would be late, Alric and Nora would have been enjoying the drink perhaps in some privacy.

They cleared their throat with embarrassment burning their cheeks.

“Sir!”

“Seize this place, call the police anonymously. Get the wealth and weapons you can, it is your reward.” Alric walked closer to a man, took off his coat and covered Nora’s bare shoulders from it. Wrapping his large hand around her small palm, he took her out of the room,

“Are you alright?” looking at his worried face, Nora laughed. He was the one who had cut the fingers like it was nothing but a piece of vegetable. He was the one shot by gun yet he was asking her!

“You need treatment. Or are you planning to play the hero till the end?” Alric sighed as he looked at his leg.