Katelyn rested her back against the headboard, her eyes shut, though she kept herself from drifting off.

As soon as she heard Vincent stir in his bed, her eyes flew open. Without hesitation, she switched on the bedside lamp and rushed over to him.

Her voice wavered with worry. “Mr. Adams, are you okay? Are you feeling any pain?”

Vincent’s face was tense, his skin damp with sweat as he struggled in the grip of a nightmare. ? ? ? ?s, ?s? s ?ovelFind.net

“No! No…”

Vincent flailed in bed, as though trapped by invisible chains he couldn’t break free from.

“I don’t want to kill! Let me out of here! Let me go!” he screamed, his forehead pulsing as he fought with everything he had.

Katelyn’s thoughts raced back to the story Vincent had told her about the Adams family’s harsh ways—where the only way to become heir was through brutal, unforgiving battles. No mercy. Only survival.

Now, the drug he’d taken was pushing him back into that dark place, forcing him to relive the horrors he’d tried to bury.

In his nightmare, a young Vincent crouched in the corner, gripping a jeweled knife tightly. His face, still showing traces of youth, was smeared with cuts, and his clothes were soaked in blood.

It was hard to tell if it was his or someone else’s.

In front of him stood a large, octagon-shaped cage.

Inside, two boys around fourteen were locked in a vicious fight, their knives slashing through the air as they attacked each other.

Both were gasping for breath, their bodies marked with wounds from the brutal struggle.

Still, neither boy would quit, because losing meant dying.

The Adams family’s main rule was simple and direct: only the strong survived.

Any child too weak to win the fight wouldn’t be spared. Even if they didn’t die in the cage, the family would take care of them quietly afterward.

There was no room for weakness in the Adams family. They needed just one leader—a king.

Vincent had been only twelve back then, the youngest of them all.

The brutal fight inside the cage was terrifying, especially for boys so young.

But in the spectator seats, an old man watched with a pleased smile on his face.

He was the leader of the Adams Group, Vincent’s grandfather, and the mastermind behind this ruthless contest.

“You are half-brothers, sharing the same blood. But only one of you can survive. The Adams family only needs one heir! Do you want to stand at the top, to hold all the power? Then take your knife and defeat your enemy!” the old man shouted with fierce conviction. “If you hesitate out of pity, your opponent’s knife will be in you next! You are not brothers now—you are enemies!”

His voice boomed through the arena, and the two exhausted boys, on the verge of collapsing, found one last bit of strength.

They ran at each other, knives ready. The result was tragic. Both boys fell to the ground, each with a knife lodged in their stomachs.

They were so young, their lives just beginning, only to be cruelly cut short by their family’s twisted customs. The old man’s eyes showed no hint of compassion, only scorn.

With a quick wave of his hand, two subordinates moved forward to remove the boys’ lifeless bodies, swiftly replacing them with new competitors, each handed a knife.

Vincent stood in shock, the horrifying scene etched into his memory, the sounds of bloodshed and cries haunting him.

He loathed this cruel tradition, despised the octagonal cage, and most of all, hated his grandfather.

The idea of survival of the fittest felt utterly absurd to him.

Finally, it was Vincent’s turn to step into the octagonal cage.

He found himself facing a sixteen-year-old boy who was actually his cousin.

But now, they stood as enemies, ready to fight.

Tears streamed down his cousin’s face as he clutched the knife with a trembling hand.

“Vincent, I don’t want to hurt you, but if I don’t, they’ll kill me. I just want a chance to live!”

Vincent held his dagger tightly, his grip betraying his fear. At such a young age, he had already witnessed too much bloodshed.

“I don’t want to kill,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s not for us to decide. We’re part of the Adams family. This is our fate,” his cousin said, wiping the tears from his face.

Suddenly, his expression turned cold as he charged at Vincent.

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