Lucas didn't say a single word. But his eyes sharp, dark, brimming with restrained turmoil said everything. While his men busied themselves untying the ropes on Haisley's wrists and ankles, Lucas stepped closer. His breathing was deep yet tight, as if holding back the boiling rage and pain in his chest.
With a slow but firm motion, Lucas pulled a blanket over his wife's exposed body. His gaze wasn't drawn to her body, but fixed on Haisley's face, which clearly refused to look at him. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen, and her body still trembling.
"Take her out," Lucas said in a low voice laced with cold threat, pointing at Veronica.
Veronica screamed, shrieking hysterically. "Haisley is mine! She's mine, not yours! You don't deserve her, you bastard!"
But no one cared. Lucas's men dragged Veronica's body out forcefully. Her screams echoed down the hallway, before finally disappearing behind a door that slammed shut.
