Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 437:

“No,” Natalia replied firmly. “I want to ask you something. Do you know about the Carpenter family?”

He hesitated for half a second before scoffing, a slow, mocking smirk creeping onto his face. “The Carpenter family?” He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t tell me—you expect me to believe you’re one of them? You think flashing that name will buy you freedom?”

Natalia affirmed with conviction, “Yes, I’m not deceiving you. My father is Wilson Carpenter.”

The man erupted into scornful laughter. “You really think you can play the part of Wilson Carpenter’s daughter? Don’t take me for a fool!” With that, his patience evaporated, and he lunged forward.

He clutched Natalia’s chin with one hand and started to pull at her clothing with the other.

At that moment, all of her feigned bravery crumbled completely. She couldn’t hold back her tears any longer and burst into sobs. Her tears flowed like a river.

The man halted abruptly and barked, “Why are you crying? I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“I’ll cry if I want to. Look at what you’re doing, and now you’re trying to deny me even this?”

Natalia cried even more sorrowfully. Her wails continued relentlessly, one sob cascading into another, reverberating through the room.

The man grew increasingly exasperated by her cries.

Unable to endure it any longer, he shoved her aside. “Weep all you want, but it changes nothing. What misfortune, to have caught a woman like this.”

Natalia seized the moment to intensify her crying.

Her sobs were sporadic yet loud, filled with a profound despair. The man felt as if his head would burst from her cries. Enraged, he stormed toward the door, only to be met with a fist to his face.

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A swift kick followed.

The man was left sprawled on the floor, his face bruised and swollen.

Realizing he was alone, he grasped the gravity of his predicament.

“Who… Who are you?”

Brian glared down at him, his expression livid and his eyes icy, sending shivers down his spine.

“You’d better hope she’s unharmed. You’ll regret it if she’s hurt,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

His demeanor was stern, utterly devoid of humor.

At that moment, the man felt genuine fear. It was as if a cold wave had washed over him, chilling him to the core. Quivering, he stammered,

“No, no. I swear… I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

“Is that so?” Brian sneered, nudging him aside with his foot.

He then strode past the threshold.

Inside, Natalia was on the sofa, her limbs bound, unable to move. More distressingly, her hair was tousled, her collar torn, and her face marred by tear streaks.

“Natalia!”

Brian immediately shed his coat, intending to cover her with it. But Natalia looked up at him, shook her head sternly, and declined.

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