The ship was massive, towering eighteen stories high. They now stood just outside a cabin door in the basement. Th?s chapter is updated by find?novel.net

Before stepping inside, Katelyn caught a whiff of something sharp and metallic hanging in the air—the unmistakable smell of blood.

A wave of dread washed over her. She already had an inkling of what she might find inside. But nothing could have truly prepared her. As the iron door creaked open, her heart dropped.

Cormac was bound to a metal rack, his skin drenched in blood. His head hung low, eyes shut, leaving her to wonder if he was even breathing. For a moment, Katelyn stood frozen in horror.

Cormac’s body was torn and battered, his skin a gruesome mess of raw flesh. His fingernails had been ripped out, leaving bloody half-moons at the tips, and dark, brutal marks ringed his wrists and ankles. The cuts appeared to be from a barbed iron chain that had dug in and shredded his flesh each time it was yanked away.

Vincent glanced at Katelyn, concern flashing in his eyes. “This is too much; you should go back and rest,” he said softly. The last thing he wanted was for her to see this, to feel the weight of the cruelty that had been inflicted.

In his mind, Cormac had gotten off easy. If it were up to Vincent, Cormac would have endured much worse. Instinctively, he wanted to shield Katelyn from the darkness he was capable of. He had kept up a cold front all this time. The Adams family had a reputation for ruthlessness, but Vincent didn’t want to scare her.

But Katelyn shook her head, surprising him. Her steps were slow but steady as she moved toward Cormac.

“I need to end this nightmare myself.”

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Samuel picked up a bucket filled with icy water and poured it over Cormac. The freezing shock jolted him awake, forcing a raw scream from his throat.

Cormac’s eyes flew open, and terror spread across his face as he took in the scene. He trembled, his voice breaking. “Please, let me go. I know I was wrong. I’ll never do it again, I swear.”

Katelyn’s face remained expressionless as she watched him, her gaze drifting to a barbed dagger lying nearby. She reached for it, noticing the old, crusted blood that clung to its jagged edges. Vincent’s concern deepened. He couldn’t shake the fear that all the bloodshed and violence would haunt Katelyn long after it was over.

Katelyn looked down at Cormac, her eyes cold, as if she were staring at something beneath contempt. “How many women have you hurt this way?”

Cormac shivered, his voice frantic as he tried to explain. “No, no! Those women—they were brought to me by others. I didn’t force anything. It was just business.” He spoke as though he still believed he’d done nothing wrong. Women came to him, and in exchange, he’d reward their benefactors. To him, it was merely part of a fair deal.

Katelyn’s expression hardened, her face becoming as cold as steel. In one swift motion, she raised the dagger and slashed down with fierce intent.

Cormac barely registered the flash of the blade before a searing pain ripped through him. His scream was raw, filled with agony.

The blow had landed across his eyes, blinding him. Blood sprayed onto Katelyn’s face, warm droplets catching on her lashes, making them tremble at the contact.

“Someone like you should burn in hell,” she said, her tone calm yet laced with deadly intent.

Her sudden, ruthless strike left Jaxen staring in shock, unable to look away. To him, Katelyn was a force to be reckoned with.

In another world, any woman would have screamed at the horror unfolding before her. But Katelyn stood strong, unyielding in her confrontation with Cormac.

Vincent’s expression remained cold as he observed every movement, his thoughts unreadable. Katelyn had promised to end this nightmare on her own terms.

For Katelyn, this meant ending Cormac’s life herself. Kindness had never been her way; she had caused harm to many in the past.

Where once she had flinched at the sight of death, she now sliced through flesh with steady resolve. This was the transformation she had undergone. In a world as brutal as this, if she didn’t take control, she risked becoming a victim herself.

Her gaze was fixed on Cormac, who continued to scream, his cries only fueling her determination. There was no trace of sympathy in Katelyn’s eyes. Cormac’s words echoed the suffering he had caused countless women.

She turned to Vincent, scanning the dimly lit room, where a narrow beam of sunlight filtered through the blocked windows. The ray of light touched her face, starkly revealing the blood that stained her skin. Most of her features were hidden in shadow, creating an unsettling contrast.

Her eyes were cold now, stripped of any warmth.

“Will killing him interfere with your work?” she asked Vincent, her voice calm. Cormac still had control over the project he desired, after all.

Vincent shook his head, his tone detached. “No.”

“Good.”

Katelyn stood poised, her smile a fleeting mask over the storm inside her. In a heartbeat, she drove the dagger into Cormac’s chest.

“Go to hell!” she declared, her voice cold and echoing through the dim room.

Cormac gasped, his body thrashing against the inevitable, but soon the fight drained from him. His hands fell slack, surrendering to the pain that spread through him.

Then, the next moment—

“Katelyn!”

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