THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

So, reluctantly, Robert swallowed hard. He took a deep breath and gave a small nod. "No problem, Father. I've heard what you said. I'll see to it."

But before the last word could even fully leave his lips, his father snapped with an even colder voice, "You're not going to see to anything. The marriage is next week. Not in two weeks. Not in a month. Next week. So you better start getting yourself prepared."

Robert's eyes widened slightly. The weight of that sentence fell like a hammer on his chest. The man didn't just tighten the noose, he tied it around Robert's neck and kicked away the stool.

His father's eyes didn't blink. His tone didn't shift. There was no room for negotiation.

"Get out of my sight," he said, turning away with finality. "I am done with you."

***

At that moment, as Cora stepped into her grand, silent mansion, she could already feel that something wasn't right. The air was heavy. The lights in the living room were still on, and the scent of unwashed bodies and dried sweat hung faintly in the atmosphere. She gently closed the door behind her and took a few steps further into the foyer.

That was when her eyes landed on them.

Brown and Giovanni, her most trusted men were on their knees, heads bowed low to the ground, completely still. The moment looked frozen in time. From their slightly slouched posture, the darkened shadows under their eyes, and the faint tremble in Giovanni's fingers, it was obvious, they had been kneeling there for hours. Not just a few minutes. This wasn't a last-minute attempt at seeking forgiveness. This was deliberate. Deep. Sincere.

Her brows furrowed immediately.

"What is going on?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "Why are you both kneeling like this?"

Hearing Cora words Neither of them looked up. For a few seconds, it was quiet.

Then Brown finally lifted his head slowly. His eyes were red. Not from crying, but from exhaustion. His voice, hoarse and heavy, came with regret.

"We failed you," he said. "We fed you to the wolves, Cora. Because of our own negligence, because we got too comfortable, too proud of our positions someone almost destroyed you. We weren't alert. We weren't watching. And you almost paid the ultimate price."

He swallowed hard and lowered his head again.

Giovanni, beside him, added in a weak voice, "When we heard you had been taken to the hospital… when we found out what happened, we knew we had failed. We rushed back here, and when we heard you were safe, we didn't know how to face you. So we dropped everything and knelt here."

He paused.

"We've been kneeling for over twenty-four hours now. No food, no water. We said to ourselves that until you return home, we will not get up. We didn't even deserve to sit in your presence, not after what happened."

At that moment, hearing what Brown and Giovanni just said, Cora stood in silence for a second, her eyes softening as she looked down at the two men kneeling in front of her. The sight of their heads bowed low, their bodies trembling slightly from exhaustion, and their voices filled with guilt pierced through the wall of pride she had been holding up all day. She felt something heavy press down on her chest, not regret over the incident alone, but over how far these two loyal men were willing to go just to bear a guilt that wasn't entirely theirs.

Cora slowly stepped forward, her heels making soft clicks on the marble floor, echoing through the otherwise quiet hall. She gently raised a hand to stop them from speaking further, her voice low but stern. "Get up," she said, her tone firm yet laced with concern. "Please, stand up. This isn't right."

But neither Brown nor Giovanni moved.

It was then that Brown, still kneeling, shook his head slowly and muttered, "We failed you, Madam. No matter the assignment you gave us, our top priority should have been your safety. We let our guard down. You were attacked… and people died because we weren't here. We don't deserve to stand."

Giovanni added in a weak voice, his throat clearly dry from the long hours without food or water, "We told ourselves that we'd wait here kneeling until you returned. Because if anything had happened to you... we wouldn't have forgiven ourselves. And now, six people have paid the price."

Cora's lips parted slightly, her expression now frozen with emotion. She hadn't realized the full weight of the attack until now. "Six?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Giovanni nodded solemnly. "Yes, Madam. Five died at the scene. The sixth, the cameraman… he's fighting for his life. The doctors say he may not survive the night. And still, you say it's not serious?"

That statement hit her like a dagger.

Cora's hand slowly dropped to her side, her body stiff. She had been trying to carry herself with composure, perhaps too much. She had convinced herself that brushing it off would give her control over the situation, but in doing so, she had ignored the human cost. Lives. Real lives.

She turned her head slightly, trying to avoid their eyes, but the image of their loyalty, of their pain remained in her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Cora finally spoke, her voice softer now, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss what happened. You're right. People lost their lives. And it's not okay. None of this is okay."

She paused, looked at both men again, and continued, "But I also don't want you starving yourselves or blaming yourselves for a mistake that wasn't yours alone. If anyone is to be blamed, it's me. I made the call. I sent you away. I didn't anticipate what would happen."

Still, the two men didn't lift their heads.

Giovanni's voice cracked. "Madam, your life is worth more than all of us combined. If anything had happened to you, this guilt would have followed us to our graves."

Brown, beside him, added in a low tone, "And to think we were not even here to stop it…"

immediately Cora cut him off.

"Was it the security agency that actually killed them?"