THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.

At that moment he swallowed hard, tasting more blood. "As for the money, things… things went bad. Very bad. My company it was taken. A woman. That witch… she stole it from me. I was planning to use that company to pay everything back. It was my hope. My only hope. But she… she took everything. Now I… I don't know what to do."

He looked like a broken man, hunched over in the chair, mouth bloodied, his spirit collapsing. His voice cracked again. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't know…"

At that moment, Oliver narrowed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he stared coldly at the man kneeling in front of him.

Hearing what James had just said, Oliver tilted his head to the side, his expression unreadable, but his voice cold and sharp like ice.

"So you're trying to tell me now... that you don't have the money to pay, right?"

"You don't have the money?"

His voice echoed through the dimly lit warehouse. The men standing behind him didn't move, but the tension in the air grew even heavier.

James's face twitched. His lips trembled slightly, and for a moment he didn't say a word. His head slowly dropped, and reluctantly, he nodded, barely lifting his eyes as he muttered.

"Yes… I just need a little bit of time… please…"

His voice was weak, filled with shame.

"Just a little time and I will pay everything. I swear. If you can help me get back my company… just a little help… I promise, I'll clear the debt. I'll even add more to it. Interest. Anything…"

But before he could finish his next sentence, a sharp sound cracked through the air.

"SLAP!!"

The second blow came faster and harder than the first, and this time, it wasn't just his head that turned James and the entire chair he was tied to slammed against the cold floor. His mouth fell open from the shock, but no sound came out. His neck twisted awkwardly, and he stayed there motionless for a second as the ache burned from his spine up to the base of his skull.

He couldn't even feel his neck anymore.

The men watching didn't flinch. Not one of them showed pity. It was just another punishment. Just another lesson.

But something unexpected happened. The force of the fall had jarred the ropes, loosening them just enough for James to pull one hand free.

Dizzy and struggling to breathe, James crawled off the chair with what little strength he had left. His body trembled. He could barely feel his knees, but he forced himself down on them.

His chest heaved, his vision was blurry.

But his voice though faint was steady enough to beg.

He lowered his head fully to the ground and muttered, his voice cracking.

"I'm… I'm very, very sorry…"

"If I said anything that annoyed the boss, I'm sorry… please…"

"Please don't punish me for that, I beg you…I'm very, very sorry… I'll do anything… anything at all…Just to make sure I can repay back my debt. Please…I will do it. Anything. I will do it…"

At that moment, hearing what James just said, Oliver leaned forward with a smirk slowly spreading across his face. His eyes locked onto James like a predator circling its prey. Then, with a voice both calm and cold, he asked again, "So… you're telling me you're ready to do anything I ask you to do?"

James didn't even hesitate. His head bobbed quickly in a nod, his face pale, his lips trembling. "Yes," he said shakily. "Anything. I swear. I'll do anything at all, just… please help me. I don't want to die here. I don't want to lose everything."

There was desperation in his voice, the kind that made even the dimly lit warehouse feel colder. His knees were already bruised from the hard ground, and his shoulders were sore from being tied. He just wanted it all to stop the beating, the fear, the humiliation.

But then, without a pause or change in expression, Oliver tilted his head, his tone still flat but filled with something dark. "Well," he said slowly, dragging the word like a knife, "what if I said I wanted your life? Would you give me that too?"

The question cut through the air like a blade.

James froze. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth hanging slightly open. His heart skipped more than a beat.

"W-what?" he stuttered. His voice broke as if it couldn't hold the weight of the question. He blinked hard, trying to understand if he heard right. "M-my… life?" he repeated in disbelief.

Oliver didn't blink. He didn't smile. He just stared.

The silence that followed was thick, heavier than all the beatings James had received. Then, slowly, James shook his head, his eyes widening with fear. "No… no, that's… that's not possible," he said. "Why would you want that? Why would anyone… why would I give my life to you? That's not fair. That's not right. I… I can't do that. It's not going to work."

At that moment, James then slowly lower his head. His breath was shallow. His lips trembled. He felt like the walls around him were caving in. Every corner of the room felt darker, colder.

"I can do any other thing…" he muttered. His voice cracked again, like a man who had lost everything and still had something precious left his life. "Please… that is not going to work. That one… it won't. It won't work."

He raised his head slightly, tears threatening to gather in the corners of his eyes. "Please… just… ask for something else. Anything else. I'll do it. I swear I will. But… please… not that."

His knees scraped against the rough ground as he shifted forward a little, like a man crawling at the edge of a cliff, begging not to be pushed off. He clasped his hands together. "Just… forgive me," he whispered. "Please forgive me. Don't ask for that."

But Oliver stood there, watching him coldly. He didn't blink. He didn't soften. He simply stared like a man who had already decided. His hands were clasped behind his back, his body tall and steady like a mountain unwilling to move.

Then, slowly, he shook his head.

"That's the problem, James," he said, his voice low but firm. "You keep saying you'll do anything, but the moment something real is demanded of you suddenly, it's too much."

He took a slow step forward. James flinched without thinking.

"You say you'll give anything," Oliver continued, his tone sharp like a knife sliding through a soft cloth. "But now you're begging for something else. You're still trying to control the terms. That tells me one thing…"

He paused right in front of James.

"…You're not ready yet."

James looked up at him, confused, afraid, his lips parting to say something but no sound came.

Oliver leaned in closer, voice barely above a whisper now. "But don't worry. I'm going to get what I want from you today."

Then he stood upright again, his eyes narrowing. "And that simply means," he added, "I'm going to have your life taken away from you today."