John's vision blurred as they dragged him toward the imposing mansion, his body battered and broken, but his mind sharp with determination. The cold air stung his cuts and bruises, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like an anchor. Each step toward the Lance mansion felt heavier, like marching toward the inevitable.
Suddenly, the sound of tyres screeching pierced the silence, and a sleek, expensive car came to a halt beside them. John's head turned slightly, his eyes narrowing as the door swung open and a familiar figure stepped out.
-Oliver McCarthy-
His tailored suit was crisp, his hair slicked back in perfect, smug precision. John knew Oliver well, the billionaire who was supposed to marry Sarah. The man Evelyn and Peter had chosen, the man with money and connections that could save the Lances from financial ruin. The man Sarah had rejected for him.
A disdainful smirk crossed Oliver's face as he approached, his expensive shoes clicking against the pavement. He surveyed John with a sneer, his eyes filled with contempt.
"Well, well, well," Oliver drawled, stopping in front of John. "If it isn't the pauper himself."
John gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay silent, but the pain in his ribs throbbed with every breath.
Oliver circled John slowly, his gaze sharp and condescending. "What were you thinking, West?" he scoffed. "Did you really think you could marry Sarah and live happily ever after? With what? Your charm? Your handyman skills?"
Taylor and Joker's men laughed behind him, their mocking voices echoing in the cold night. John's fists clenched at his sides, but he couldn't move. He was too weak, and they knew it.
Oliver's eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his voice dropping low. "You have nothing, John. You're worthless. A man with no future, no money, no status. You're a joke. And yet, you had the nerve to marry Sarah, my Sarah."
Taylor let out a bark of laughter, clearly enjoying the show. "He really thought love would solve everything. Poor guy didn't realize the world doesn't work that way."
Joker's goons snickered, nodding along as they roughly pushed John forward, causing him to stumble. Oliver's sneer deepened as he stepped in closer, his face inches from John's.
"You're pathetic, West," Oliver spat. "You've dragged her into this mess, thinking you could play the hero. You were always beneath her. Always a fool for trying."
John glared at him through swollen eyes, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Every word Oliver threw at him was like a dagger, but his resolve remained unshaken. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking.
Taylor grinned, his hands resting on his hips as he leaned toward John. "See, West, you've been living in a fantasy. You really thought you could play house with Sarah while the rest of us deal with the real world."
John's lips parted, his voice hoarse as he finally spoke. "I… didn't marry Sarah for money. I married her because I love her, something none of you could ever understand."
Taylor snorted, shaking his head as he exchanged amused glances with the goons. "You hear that? The poor guy's still hanging on to that love nonsense."
Oliver's eyes flashed with rage, and in a sudden, violent motion, he shoved John backwards. John stumbled, falling to his knees as his vision blurred from the impact.
"Love?" Oliver hissed, his voice filled with venom. "You really think love is going to save you now? You couldn't even provide for her! You brought her nothing but misery. You let her live in squalor while I could've given her everything."
John forced himself to look up, meeting Oliver's gaze despite the pain radiating through his body. "Everything… except the one thing she wanted. You."
Oliver's face twisted with fury, and in one swift movement, he kicked John in the side. The force of the blow sent John crumpling to the ground, gasping for air as the pain shot through his already bruised ribs.
Taylor's laughter echoed through the air. "Good one, Oliver! Show him what it means to be a man with real power."
The goons joined in, jeering and mocking John as he lay on the ground, struggling to breathe. Each insult and each laugh felt like another punch to the gut, but John held on, his mind racing with thoughts of Sarah. He couldn't give up. Not now.
Oliver crouched down beside him, his voice low and threatening. "You don't belong in her life, John. You never did. When this is over, she'll be mine, just as she should have been from the start. And you? You'll be nothing. You'll be forgotten."
John's vision swam, the world spinning around him as he fought to stay conscious. He refused to let Oliver's words sink in, even as the darkness threatened to swallow him whole.
Suddenly, Oliver stood, straightening his suit jacket with a satisfied smirk. "Get him inside," he ordered Taylor and the men. "Let's make sure he understands where he belongs."
The goons grabbed John by the arms, yanking him to his feet. His legs felt like jelly beneath him, barely able to hold his weight as they dragged him toward the mansion's grand doors.
As they approached, Taylor turned to John with a dark smile. "Ready for the grand finale, West? You're about to find out what happens when you defy the Lance family."
John's heart pounded in his chest, his thoughts filled with Sarah. He had to survive this. He had to find her.
But as the mansion's doors loomed closer, and the laughter of his captors echoed around him, John knew the worst was yet to come.