Dez gasped for air as the kick had severely winded him.

‘Which one of these cunts helped you to batter my son?’

Dez didn’t even attempt to lie or argue. Straightaway, he pointed to Alastair. ‘Him. He did!’ he cried.

‘Are you fucking sure?’

Dez curled in a ball. ‘Yes, yes, it was him. I didn’t want to hurt the girl. I only wanted to give your son a beating. I never thought it would go that far. Please, I’m begging you. No more.’

Lance was balling his fists, trying desperately hard to hold his temper. The anger was at boiling point. With flared nostrils, he turned to Zara, who’d just reappeared with a cup of coffee in her hand. ‘Are you done now?’

She shook her head. ‘Wait, Lance. I’m a woman who stays true to her word. I promised Torvic that I would stoop lower than him. That’s going to happen. Now!’

Torvic closed his eyes, afraid to hear another word. The thought of what she’d planned ripped the heart right out of him. He knew what was coming, and he knew he would rather die a thousand horrific deaths than face her wrath.

‘Neil!’ she called out. ‘Bring her in!’

That was it. Torvic felt a pain that only death could stop.

He had to open his eyes, he had to see, although he knew it would totally break his heart.

From behind the door, Neil and Shamus appeared, holding a woman between them. Tiffany, his treasured granddaughter, she was the only person alive who he would die for. His sweet little angel, who he used to tuck up in bed, who he watched grow into a beautiful woman. She was the child who was tougher than both his two sons together. His eyes met hers, and he trembled as he witnessed the fear on her little face. A face that was pleading for help. Her eyes, soaked in tears, had turned down at the silent pleading. Her round white face and her pretty heart-shaped purple lips were bursting through the gag. The cloth shoved in her mouth may have stopped the words, but he knew she was begging him to help her. He had always supported her. She called him her guardian angel. Yet she wanted to be like him and run the firm. She loved the excitement, the exhilaration, and for a woman, she was strong. He pushed her time and time again to see how far she would go and how much she could handle. He was proud. He once watched her plunge a knife into his runner who disobeyed him. She didn’t flinch when she threw the acid and watched the skin peel from the woman’s face. In fact, she threw another load on her just to hear the blood-curdling screams. His Mighty Mouse, he called her. She listened, and she learned, and she did as she was told.