Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 404: Turn his hinto a haunted house...

Chapter 404: Turn his hinto a haunted house...

~Next day~

With his natural body clock, Davis woke up in his study with a fresh start and a calmer mind, just as the dark sky

shrouding the earth began to peel away.

The chaos of the previous day now felt like a fleeting dream, but the reality before him was vivid and pressing.

Unlike the days after his accident when he had felt weak, hopeless, and trapped, this the was filled with

vigor and strength.

He had a clear goal, a sharpened objective, and the machinery of his plans already set in motion.

Stretching out his arms, he left the couch and walked over to his table. As he settled into the chair, his brow

furrowed briefly before a cold smirk crept across his lips.

His thoughts drifted to Sylas, and he wondered how the man might have endured the night.

For a man as evil as Sylas, punishment wasn’t best delivered by the law, it was far better to let his own

conscience haunt him. To make him live with his wickedness, to let it catch up, choke him, and eventually drown

him.

If it were only about justice, Davis could have simply gathered the evidence and handed it to the police chief. But

that would never break Sylas.

No, as much as he wanted to get this justice as fast as possible, Davis wanted was to see him shatter. To watch

him crumble under the weight of his own darkness. Only then would the true consequences of his evil cto

bear... the dire repercussions of his evil.

A light tap on the door and it was pushed in. Davis didn’t have to look back to know who entered. "Any update

from Sylas’s end?"

"Any update from Sylas’s end?" he asked evenly.

"Not yet, but | believe it won't be long," Ethan began.

But Davis cut him off, his tone sharp and decisive. "I can’t wait. His hmust be infiltrated, and a video of his

unraveling moment captured."

Ethan's eyes widened. He parted his lips to speak, but before a word escaped, a deeper voice interrupted from

the doorway.

"I can handle that."

Davis and Ethan snapped their heads toward the door, both startled. Surprise flickered across their eyes as Elliot

stepped in uninvited.

Davis shot Ethan a glare, but Ethan only lifted his hands as shrugged innocently.

He hadn't let him in; the door had been shut securely. Elliot had pushed it open at the exact moment Davis

began his instruction.

"Grandpa," Davis said carefully, "you can’t possibly be the one infiltrating Louis’ home?" His eyes studied Elliot's

expression with cautious knowing look.

"What's with that look?" Elliot's eyes glinted with steel. "He dared to move his legs and hands against my

granddaughter’s life, and yet | can’t visit him?"

Davis rubbed his brow, exasperated. He knew too well that if Elliot involved himself, things might spiral out of

control.

And yet... perhaps that was what Sylas deserved. Maybe letting Elliot loose on him would unravel him faster,

forcing him to burn in guilt, fear, and psychological torment.

"Also," Elliot said firmly, "I want to see your plans for handling Sylas."

Davis inhaled deeply, nodding toward the couch. "Fine. Take a seat, and I'll give you a brief sketch of what |

intend to do."

Elliot strode over to the very couch where Davis had just woken moments ago and lowered himself into it. A faint

smirk tugged at his lips.

"I'm seated. You can start."

Never in his life had Davis found accountability this difficult. Yet looking at his grandfather's eager, expectant

eyes, he realized the old man’s hands must be itching to strangle Sylas himself.

Davis exhaled slowly and began, "I have gathered every detail of his evil deeds, spanning years, along with the

necessary evidence."

"Are you turning him over to the police?" Elliot asked bluntly.

Davis's lips curled into a cold, merciless smile. "That would be too easy. If he goes to prison, he'll still find a way

to stand tall. No, he must learn his lesson, one that leaves him scarred enough never to rise again, never to hurt

people again."

Elliot's gaze narrowed, studying him. "Then what do you plan to do?"

Leaning back in his chair, Davis tapped his fingers rhythmically against the desk. His eyes gleamed with resolve.

"| plan to exploit his weakness."

Elliot's brows furrowed. "And what weakness is that?"

"Perfection," Davis answered crisply, his smirk deepening.

The word hung in the air. Elliot turned it over in his mind before murmuring, "Perfectionist?"

Davis nodded. "The more he tries to perfect his schemes, the more mistakes he makes. He obsesses over a

clean finish, but that obsession blinds him. Ill turn that flaw against him."

Sylas Louis wanted flawless execution in all his plots. He was meticulous to the point of arrogance.

But in his hunger for perfection, he overlooked cracks and those cracks were exactly where Davis intended to

strike.

"To make him wish for death. To make him go mad. To make every breath feel like a curse," Davis murmured. "He

will learn that nothing is ever truly hidden. People only fail to look deep enough."

"Wouldn't that take time?" Elliot asked warily.

Davis shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips. "No matter the time, | have the pleasure to wait but I've tested it

already. He won't last a week before losing control. And when he does..."

Elliot leaned back with a nod, comprehension dawning on his face. "I see. But | can achieve that faster than your

men."

Davis started to object, but Elliot raised a hand, silencing him. "Leave that to me. You focus elsewhere."

Davis sighed, resigned. "It can’t be helped... but perhaps you should listen to this first."

At his signal, Ethan stepped forward while Elliot leaned in, intrigued. Davis powered up his laptop, his fingers

flying over the keys. Within moments, he dialed Sylas’s number.

The call was answered almost instantly, Sylas’s furious voice blasting through the line.

"Who are you? Why do you have those photos?"

Davis placed his phone on the table, letting the laptop transmit a distorted, mechanical voice in place of his own.

"You can’t release those photos. They're fake!" Sylas snapped.

"Sylas Louis," the cold voice echoed, "don’t you think your evil deeds will catch up with you?"

Sylas’s breathing grew uneven, heavy gasps filtering through the speaker. His composure faltered.

"No... no, | did nothing wrong..." he muttered, over and over.

"Everything you have done has been wrong," the voice pressed. "Your crimes are already on the policemen’s

desks. Still denying your guilt?"

"You dare not!" Sylas roared. "Don’t you dare! I'll kill you, monster! | wasn’t evil...it was their fault!"

Davis's lips twisted into a cruel grin. "Unrepentant to the end... But evil always reaps its reward. Do you think

you can hide forever?"

Sylas gasped for air like a man running on a treadmill. "Who are you to stand in my way?" he demanded, voice

trembling.

"Who do you think you are?!" he shouted next, spiraling into incoherent rage. Davis only leaned back, allowing

the hollow, mechanical laughter to echo into Sylas’s ears.

Elliot, watching, raised a brow. "Why doesn’t he realize it's you?"

I" :

Not my voice. Not my number. And |

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was the last person he would expect,

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Davis replied coolly Hess $0 of

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Elliot chuckled darkly, a gleam in his

eyes, his head already lannipg on

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how to Gori stone Good.

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Patting Davis's shoulder, he laughed softly. "By tomorrow morning, consider his hhaunted."

Davis exhaled, choosing not to resist further. If Elliot was set on it, nothing would stop him. Better to channel his

own focus elsewhere.

As Elliot left, the study fell into silence, leaving only Ethan and Davis behind.

"So..." Ethan began hesitantly.

"Sit down, Ethan," Davis clipped.

The gravity in his tone made Ethan's chest tighten. He obeyed, lowering himself onto the couch.

Davis's voice, calm and slow, broke through the silence of the study, "Ethan, have you made any attempt to find

your roots again?"

The question hit him like a blow. Slowly, he lifted his gaze, swallowing hard. For Davis to ask this question at this

twas never one of the things he had prepared for.

But with Davis's character, he never asked questions without reason, if he asked, it meant he knew something or

had just found out something.

"I tried," Ethan admitted softly. "But there was never any headway to the truth. So I... | made peace with it." He

lowered his eyes, fidgeting with his nails.

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Davis's jaw tightened. His voice

trembled with restrained anger.

I" . 5

Made peace, huh? Wighwhat? With

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ap yng fatefuloster family? With

parasitic adoptive parents? With

heartless siblings? What exactly did

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you make peace with?" The content

is on novelenglish.net! Read the latest

chapter there!

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