Chapter 3

Madeline spoiled her only son rotten, granting his every whim. To make sure she wouldn't ruin my plans, I decided to brainwash her early.

I played the role of a loving patriarch, telling her that Vance was the future heir to our family empire and needed tough love. If we kept spoiling him, he would end up ruined.

As the master of the house—especially after my performance in bed—Madeline agreed with everything I said without a single doubt.

About three hours later, Vance, who hadn't set foot in the house for over a week, burst through the front door, looking completely disheveled and enraged.

"Dad! Have you lost your mind?! Am I even your son? Why the hell did you cut off my cards for no reason? My girlfriend had to pay for the bill in the end! Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?!"

He paced around the living room, shouting and complaining.

I didn't say a word. I stood up, walked over, and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

*SLAP!*

The sound was incredibly loud and satisfying.

*Don't mention it, son. This one's on me!*

"Ah!"

Vance screamed, stumbling backward and almost falling to the floor.

The slap was brutal. His cheek instantly swelled up, turning a bright, angry red, and blood began to gush from his nose.

Still unsatisfied, I raised my foot and kicked him squarely in the stomach.

Vance collapsed onto the floor, curling up like a boiled shrimp, groaning and clutching his abdomen in agony.

Crying and trembling, he looked up at me with sheer terror and confusion. "Dad... why?"

"No reason. I just felt like using you as a punching bag. I am your father. If I tell you to eat dirt, you swallow it and ask for seconds!"

Vance was utterly stunned by my brutality. Even Madeline stood frozen in shock. She never expected me to lay such a violent hand on our son.

Seeing her son bleeding and groaning on the floor, tears welled up in Madeline's eyes. She instinctively rushed forward to help him up.

"Don't touch him! Let him get up on his own!" I barked, my voice cold and commanding. "The little brat is just acting to get your pity. Trust me, he's not going to die!"

I pulled Madeline back.

Madeline opened her mouth to beg for mercy, but seeing my absolute, uncompromising expression, she swallowed her words and stepped back.

Remembering what I had told her earlier about "tough love," she clenched her fists and turned her eyes away.

*A father disciplining his son must be doing it for his own good. I cannot let my foolish indulgence ruin my husband’s plans.*

I looked down at Vance, watching his pathetic, agonizing state, feeling a wave of absolute triumph.

*Vance Carter, you could never in a million years guess that the man beating you isn't your father, but Leo Henderson—the man you and Chloe murdered.*

*But did you think a single slap and a kick would be enough? No. Not even close!*

*I'm going to make you wish you were dead. And Chloe, that toxic snake... neither of you will escape!*

"Get up! I'm going to count to ten. If you're still on the floor, I'll kick you again!"

Enduring the pain, Vance scrambled to his feet, trembling like a leaf.

The moment he stood up, I slapped his other cheek with equal force.

Vance clutched his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. He cried out in pure misery, "Dad! I got up! Why did you slap me again?!"

I looked at him innocently. "I didn't kick you, did I? I used my hand this time!"

Vance looked like he was about to have a mental breakdown. He finally realized his father was out for blood today, and no matter what he did, he was going to get beaten. What could he do? Nothing. A father disciplining his son was the law of nature in this house. He just had to take it until I got tired.

He comforted himself with this thought.

I looked down at him, pretending to be disappointed, and yelled, "What? Are you trying to protest with silent defiance?!"

"I’ve been too busy with work and neglected your upbringing. I let you run wild, and now you’ve become a complete parasite! If I don't teach you a lesson today, you'll either end up dead on the streets or rotting in a prison cell, throwing our family name into the mud!"

Without another word, I whipped off my leather belt and began striking him ruthlessly.

I ripped his expensive clothes to shreds, leaving angry red welts all over his back and arms.

The living room filled with his pig-like squeals.

"Ah! Ah! Dad! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Vance shrieked, begging for mercy.

If I were his real father, I might have softened. But I wasn't. The louder he screamed, the happier I felt.

*This is called karma, you piece of trash. Did you think about this day when you stole my wife and pushed me off that building?*

Seeing that I was actually flaying him alive, Madeline panicked. She threw herself over Vance, begging me to stop. But I was fueled by ten lifetimes of rage. Besides, she wasn't my real wife, so why would I care about her tears?

I roughly pulled Madeline away and continued to swing the belt, raining blows down on Vance.

*Crack! Crack! Crack!*

What a beautiful sound.

"Tell me! What did you do wrong?!"

"Dad, Dad, I was wrong! I really was!"

"I shouldn't have slept with other men's wives! I shouldn't have beaten people up and threatened them! I shouldn't have..."

Under the paralyzing fear of being beaten to death, Vance assumed I had found out about his dark secrets. His psychological defense crumbled completely, and he began spilling all his sins.

Stealing married women, ruining widows, blackmailing female teachers, breaking a college student's legs and threatening his entire family to keep them quiet...

I knew he was a bad egg, but I didn't realize he was a literal monster.

Even Madeline stared at him in horror. In her mind, her son was just a spoiled playboy, but she never imagined he had committed actual crimes behind her back.

She felt a wave of profound disappointment and almost fainted from shock.

"Madeline, go to the kitchen and grab a knife," I roared. "I'm going to castrate this beast myself today!"