Chapter 31: The Beating

"You absolutely must go to the hospital."

Sebastian leaned against the sofa, eyes closed, and shook his head.

"I said no."

Xavier watched him, remaining silent.

Beside them, Chen was pacing frantically. "Counselor, you can't do this! A back injury is no joke!"

Sebastian didn't open his eyes.

"I told you. No."

His voice was hoarse, but his tone was iron-clad, leaving no room for negotiation.

Xavier was silent for two seconds before standing up.

"Fine. If you won't go to the hospital, you at least can't keep leaning like that. We're switching your brace."

He pulled a portable lumbar support brace from his bag—a piece of medical equipment designed for stabilization. He squatted down and signaled Chen to help.

"Come on, help me lift him up a bit."

Chen hurried forward, carefully supporting Sebastian. Sebastian’s brow furrowed, but he didn't make a sound.

Xavier wrapped the brace around the man's waist, adjusted its position, and tightened it.

"This will help prop you up," he said. "But it's only temporary. You must go to the hospital tomorrow."

Sebastian said nothing.

Xavier and Chen stood on either side of him, hoisting him up to walk slowly upstairs.

Sebastian’s pace was agonizingly slow; every step felt like a form of execution. He had never imagined that pain could reach this magnitude. Yet, he gritted his teeth and didn't utter a single groan.

In the bedroom, they laid him on the bed. Xavier adjusted his posture again, helping him lie on his side with a pillow propped behind his back.

"Is that better?"

Sebastian nodded.

Xavier stood up, looking down at him.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

Sebastian didn't answer.

Xavier sighed.

"Sleep first. We'll deal with everything else tomorrow."

He headed out, with Chen following behind.

As they reached the door, Sebastian suddenly spoke.

"You two should leave."

Chen turned back.

"Counselor, you're all alone—"

"Leave."

Sebastian’s voice was soft, but the word landed like a stone hitting the floor.

Chen wanted to argue, but Xavier pulled him away.

Xavier shook his head at him.

The two walked out of the bedroom and softly closed the door.

The moment the door clicked shut, the room fell into silence.

Sebastian lay on his side, his heart filled with a restless ache.

He didn't know how long he lay there.

Night fell.

He was still there, unmoving.

The duvet was bunched up in his hands, gripped so tight the fabric was a mess of wrinkles.

His eyes suddenly burned.

He didn't know why he was like this. He never cried. From childhood to adulthood, no matter how difficult the situation or how painful the injury, he had never wept.

But now, the stinging sensation surged from his eyes, impossible to stop.

He buried his face in the pillow, his shoulders shivering slightly.

There was no sound.

Only a small patch of the pillow slowly grew damp.

His back hurt, but his heart hurt more.

Downstairs, Chen and Xavier stood in the living room.

Chen held his phone, dialing Lucian’s number over and over again.

"The person you are calling is not available right now..."

He hung up and dialed again.

Still no answer.

"Dammit," he cursed. "Where the hell is that guy?"

Xavier leaned against the sofa, watching him.

"Stop calling."

Chen looked up. "What?"

Xavier’s tone was flat.

"He likely has a reason he can't speak. Don't push him."

Chen looked at Xavier—at that perpetually cold face—and suddenly felt he was right.

Lucian usually acted heartless and carefree, but when something truly happened, he never hid.

If he wasn't answering, there was a reason.

Chen tucked his phone away and sighed.

"Fine."

He walked over to Xavier and plopped down.

Then he shuffled closer to Xavier, and closer still, until he was leaning his entire weight against the man.

"So we just wait?"

Xavier looked down at him.

Chen leaned against his shoulder, looking innocent.

"What? I'm tired. Can't I lean for a bit?"

Xavier was speechless. After two seconds, he reached out and pushed Chen’s head away slightly.

"Sit properly."

Chen grinned and leaned right back on him.

This time, Xavier didn't push him away.

In Marcus's apartment, every light was on.

Marcus leaned back against the sofa, his face a mess of bruises. The corner of his mouth was split, his eye was swollen, and he looked utterly disheveled.

"Finished hitting me?" he asked.

Lucian stood before him. He regretted hitting him personally; he should have hired someone to give him a real thrashing.

Marcus watched him, his grin widening.

"You hit me, you felt good. But do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused for him?"

Lucian’s brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Marcus slowly sat up straight, wiping blood from his lip.

"You think this just ends here?" he said. "The video of you hitting me—the cameras at the door caught everything. I call the police, you go inside. What do you think the media will write?"

He looked at Lucian, emphasizing every word.

"Sebastian’s 'little lover' goes to prison for assault. Quite the headline, wouldn't you say?"

Lucian’s fists tightened.

Marcus continued, "When that happens, the things he hasn't clarified yet will be impossible to clean up. His career as a lawyer—hahaha—is over."

Lucian stared at him with murderous intent, a fire burning in his heart that wanted to deliver another punch.

But he didn't move.

He simply looked at Marcus and said, word for word:

"You can hit me back."

Lucian continued, "Hit me double. I’ll take it. I won't fight back. What I do has nothing to do with him."

Marcus sat on the sofa, watching Lucian, and slowly began to laugh.

"Interesting," he said. "Truly interesting."

"So young, so impulsive," his tone shifted. "But, I actually like this 'not-afraid-to-die' attitude of yours."

Lucian stared at him, his face set in a look of absolute determination.

He trusted Chen to take care of Sebastian. Despite Chen’s usual slacking, when it counted, he was reliable—more composed than Lucian himself.

As for Lucian, he would pay for the trouble he caused.

Marcus leaned back, looking at Lucian, and smiled.

"Fine," he said. "Coincidentally, nothing has been going my way lately. Taking you to court would indeed cost me a lot of time."

He paused, leaning forward.

"How about this: you let me get my kicks in, and I’ll let you go."

Lucian stared at him. "Clarify the rumors."

Marcus burst out laughing, as if he’d heard the funniest joke in the world.

"Clarify the rumors?" he repeated. "You’re still thinking about that?"

Lucian didn't speak, just watched him.

Marcus finished laughing and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Fine, why not," he said. "You let me enjoy myself, and I’ll clarify. Only for the infidelity case; I don't care about the rest."

Lucian nodded. "Hit me however you want."

Marcus picked up his phone and dialed.

"Hey, bring a few guys over. The kind that can fight."

The call ended. He leaned back, looking at Lucian like a sheep at the slaughter.

"Wait for it."

...

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Marcus stood up to open it. Three men stood outside, all in their thirties, broad-shouldered and heavily built—clearly professionals.

"Marcus."

"Yeah," Marcus stepped aside. "Come in."

The three walked in and blinked in surprise seeing Lucian in the middle of the room.

"Just him?"

"Just him," Marcus smiled. "Why? Not enough for you?"

The three laughed.

One cracked his knuckles. "It’s enough. Just right for a bit of exercise."

Marcus walked back to the sofa and sat down, crossing his legs.

"Begin."

The first man walked up to Lucian, eyeing him from top to bottom.

"Kid, you going to lie down yourself, or do I help you?"

Lucian said nothing, just watched him.

The man smiled and slammed a fist into his stomach.

Lucian doubled over, letting out a muffled groan.

A second punch followed, hitting his face.

He took a step back but remained standing.

Third punch, fourth, fifth...

The blows fell like rain, hitting his body, his face, his ribs. He was sent stumbling back, slamming into the wall before sliding down.

He gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound.

Marcus watched from the sofa, his mood vastly improved. A free boxing match was worth watching.

"Interesting," he said. "You’re quite durable."

The second man stepped up and delivered a hard kick to Lucian’s stomach.

Lucian flew backward, crashing into the coffee table before rolling onto the floor. The glasses on the table shattered, shards scattering everywhere.

He lay on the ground, gasping for air.

His lip was split, blood dripping onto the floor.

But he still didn't make a sound.

He tried to brace himself to crawl up, but halfway there, the third man’s boot slammed into his back, pinning him to the floor.

"Stubborn one, aren't you?" the man laughed. "Fine, let's see how long you can last."

The pressure on his back increased. Lucian’s brow furrowed, but he remained silent.

The three surrounded him, a flurry of fists and boots.

Lucian curled into a ball on the floor, protecting his head, allowing them to strike.

One blow, two, three.

One kick, two, three.

He didn't know how many times he was hit. He only knew that every inch of his body was screaming in pain—it felt like burning, like being sliced, like being crushed.

But he still didn't make a sound.

He gritted his teeth and swallowed every noise back into his gut.

Marcus stood up, walked over to him, and squatted down.

Lucian’s face was unrecognizable from the swelling, his eyes were bruised purple, his lip was torn, and blood covered his face. But his eyes were still open, looking at Marcus.

"You know," Marcus said, "I'm starting to actually admire you."

Lucian didn't speak.

Marcus stood up and took a step back.

"Continue."

The three closed in again.

It was hard to tell how much time passed.

Maybe an hour, maybe two.

The three finally stopped.

They stood there, panting, looking down at the unmoving figure on the floor.

Lucian was curled on the ground, covered in blood. His face was too swollen to recognize, and his clothes were shredded, revealing skin covered in dark purple contusions.

But he was still breathing.

Faintly, shallowly, but he was still breathing.

Marcus walked over and looked down at him.

"That's enough," he said. "That’s it for today."

He squatted down, looking into Lucian’s eyes.

The eyes were swollen to mere slits, but they were open, watching him.

Marcus smiled.

"I’m a man of my word. The infidelity case—I’ll have a statement issued saying it was a misunderstanding, a forced perspective shot. As for the rest, I’m not lifting a finger."

Marcus stood up and waved the three men away.

"Let's go."