Mated to the Mad Lord-Chapter 100: Family Conflict

June had just finished preparing dinner and was carefully carrying the bowls to the table, where the rest of the family sat waiting in silence. The room was tense, heavy with unspoken words, as if everyone was holding their breath.

But just as June approached the table, her hands faltered, a sudden weakness overtaking her. The bowl slipped from her grasp, crashing to the floor with a loud shatter.

The sound startled everyone, their heads whipping toward her in unison. Yet before anyone could react, June fell to her knees, her entire body trembling as she broke into heart-wrenching sobs.

"H-how could he?" she cried, her voice raw and shaking. "What could we have done to deserve this?" Her sobs grew louder as she held up her hand, pointing at the stump where her pinky finger used to be. The bandage was wrapped tightly around it, but the phantom pain lingered, sharp and relentless. The memory of that night, of the men and their cold blades, was still fresh in her mind.

For a moment, it seemed as though her anguish might galvanize the rest of the family into action. But not one of them moved.

Sarah, Oliver, and Luke remained seated, their gazes fixed downward. The table between them was empty, save for a few scattered utensils. It was as if they were all trapped in their own misery, too consumed by their thoughts to offer her comfort.

Luke, in particular, couldn’t tear his eyes away from his right hand. His face was a mask of barely-contained rage, his jaw clenched so tightly it seemed like it might snap. He stared at the stumps where three of his fingers used to be, the skin still raw and healing. His thumb and index finger twitched uselessly as if the missing digits might miraculously return.

The night played over and over in his mind. The sound of the door crashing open. The cold, unfeeling men who entered without a word. Their faces obscured, their movements mechanical as they methodically severed the fingers of every family member.

Across from him, Oliver sat rigid in his chair, his hands trembling slightly as he rested them in his lap. His left hand had heavy bruises, a finger was also gone, leaving only an empty ache. Instead of looking at it, his gaze stayed fixed on the table, as though staring at the woodgrain might help him find some semblance of calm.

Sarah sat beside him, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. Her hands, hidden beneath the table, fidgeted with the hem of her dress. Unlike June, she hadn’t burst into sobs, but her chest heaved with the effort of suppressing them.

"What if they come back?" June’s voice broke through the oppressive silence, rising to a near scream as she clutched her bandaged hand to her chest. "We’re not safe here!"

Her words struck a chord, shattering the fragile stillness.

Luke shot to his feet, his chair screeching against the floor as he turned on her, his face twisted in fury. "Move? Move where?" he shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Where the hell do you think we should go, huh? The rest of the money we had was spent paying for the damn medical bills—and those stupid gloves to hide her disfigurement!" He jabbed a finger toward Sarah, who flinched at his words.

Sarah’s face crumpled, and Oliver, unable to sit still any longer, glared at Luke. "We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t dumped half our savings into that so-called investment scheme of yours!" he snapped, his voice tight with restrained fury.

Luke didn’t hesitate. He crossed the distance between them in a single stride and struck Oliver across the face with his left hand. The sound of the slap echoed in the room, momentarily stunning everyone.

Oliver’s shock didn’t last long. Fury flared in his eyes as he lunged at Luke, his fist connecting with his father’s jaw. Luke stumbled back, his injured hand flailing uselessly as he struggled to defend himself.

"Stop!" June screamed, her voice desperate as she tried to get between them. "Cut it out, both of you!"

But her cries fell on deaf ears. Oliver’s rage boiled over as he struck Luke again, this time sending him sprawling to the floor. "You can beat mother and Sarah all you want, but if you touch me again like before...I swear I’ll kill you!" he spat, his chest heaving as he stood over his father.

"The doctors said we could still get our fingers reattached," Sarah sniffed, her voice trembling as she tried to find something, anything, to hold onto. "If we had the fingers... we could..." Her words trailed off, the harsh reality sinking in.

They didn’t have the fingers. They never would.

Sarah’s tears turned into hot, angry sobs. "We’ve done nothing wrong! I’ve done nothing wrong!" she shouted, her voice rising with every word. "How am I supposed to live like this? I could lose my job... and no man will even look at me!"

She jumped to her feet, her expression wild with desperation. "We need money. We need it now!"

The room fell silent, her words hanging heavy in the air.

"The next time Violet comes back, we should sell her to Flint," Sarah declared, her voice trembling with both determination and bitterness. "He can use her however he wants and we can demand extra money...I don’t care!"

"What?" Oliver’s voice was a low growl, disbelief etched into his features.

"You heard me!" Sarah snapped. "How am I supposed to be anything to anyone with a missing finger?" Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face.

Oliver slammed his fist onto the table. "Shut up! Just shut the hell up!" he shouted. "Do you think Flint would even dare touch her now? She works for Lord Cain as his personal servant!"

The revelation stunned the room into silence.

"What?" Sarah whispered, her brow furrowing in disbelief. "But that’s... she’s a girl. She couldn’t possibly..."

"She does," Oliver insisted. "James’ brother works there. He described her perfectly while ranting about it. I’m sure he has no idea who she is. How do you think she got so much money when she came home?"

A ripple of unease passed through the family. Sarah’s face paled, her hands trembling as she clutched her arms. "Do you think it was the Lord who sent those men?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "Because Violet... displeased him?"

"Sarah!" June snapped, her voice sharp. "Violet would never hurt us!"

Luke, who had been nursing the bruises on his face, finally spoke. "It could’ve been Flint... or worse, Rexter, the Red who hired the both of you," he said, his tone grim.

The name hung in the air like a curse that all of them had previously refused to mention even after they found out who he was.

"If we tell Violet what happened, we can make her feel guilty enough to give us money," Luke said, a cruel glint in his eye. "She doesn’t earn much, but she’ll find a way to get it."

June’s face twisted in horror. "You’re going to blackmail her? She could die if she’s caught stealing!" she said with a gasp but Luke turned to her, his expression cold and unrecognizable as he spoke.

"Do you have a better idea? We need to move to the higher section of the district now more than ever for our safety!"

"She’s not my daughter. If she fails to be useful, then she might as well be dead."freewёbn૦νeɭ.com