The Devil Who Claimed Me

Max escaped in a panic, believing he had gotten away. He didn’t immediately head to the airport because he knew Matteo’s men may be watching the major roads.

Instead, he went to an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city that he had once used as a temporary hideout.

His whole body throbbed with every movement, the pain becoming sharper with each step he took. Blood had soaked through his shirt.

He kept checking behind, afraid someone would follow him. But there was nothing.

No headlights followed him. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was hunting him.

He limped into the warehouse.

Inside was dark and smelled of dust, rust, and damp concrete. Moonlight slipped through the broken windows, casting pale strips of light across the floor.

Max locked the rusted door behind him and leaned against it, breathing heavily. He allowed himself to believe he was safe. He dragged an old wooden crate toward the wall and sat down. His hands trembled as he removed the blood-soaked shirt.

His body was marred with wounds. The police had beaten him so hard. Some wounds were still dripping blood.

He gritted his teeth and poured antiseptic over the wound.

"Damn it..." he cursed under his breath.

The pain was excruciating. But he forced himself to clean the wound. He leaned his head against the wall. He had no proper medicine and no idea how long he could stay there.

All he knew was that he needed to survive. He would leave for Greece as soon as he could. He closed his eyes.

His body was exhausted from the blood loss, the pain, and everything that had happened that day.

The arrogance disappeared from his face.

He had lost everything: his career, the properties his father had left, and the woman he loved. And now Matteo was hunting him.

"I’ll leave," he said with determination. "I’ll disappear. No one will ever find me again."

But exhaustion quickly overwhelmed him. His head slowly tilted to the side. Within minutes, Max fell into a restless sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Across the city, Matteo’s phone displayed a blinking location. One of his men had connected the tracker to a private monitoring system.

"He stopped moving," the man said. "The signal is coming from an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts."

Matteo’s expression darkened. "Let’s go."

Several black vehicles sped through the deserted streets. At midnight, they reached the warehouse. The engines were switched off some distance away.

Matteo stepped out first. His men followed, spreading out around the building.

The warehouse stood silent beneath the moonlight. No one spoke. They moved toward the entrance.

Inside, Max suddenly stirred and opened his eyes. For several seconds, he remained disoriented. His entire body stiffened as he heard footsteps outside.

He held his breath and listened.

The footsteps kept approaching, sounding louder with every second.

His heart began pounding.

Max slowly pushed himself upright, ignoring the pain shooting through his body. He limped toward a broken window and cautiously looked through it.

Several dark figures were approaching the warehouse. His blood ran cold.

"No..." He stumbled backward.

They had found him.

Panic surged through his body. He grabbed the gun Dominic had given him.

The moment one of the men appeared near the entrance, Max fired.

The gunshot shattered the silence.

The men immediately returned fire. Bullets tore through the metal walls.

Max ducked behind a stack of wooden crates. He fired again and again. But his hands were shaking now.

The sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse. He fired another shot.

Click.

He had no bullets left.

Max froze. He looked down at the gun and found it was empty. For a moment, he couldn’t breathe. And they were coming for him.

Real fear finally seized him. He had always believed he could find a way out. But tonight, for the first time, he realized that none of those things could save him.

He had nowhere to run. Yet he wouldn’t give up.

Max limped toward the rear exit, stumbling over debris.

"Stop."

A gunshot rang out, and the bullet pierced his leg.

Pain exploded through his leg.

"Ahh..." Max screamed and collapsed onto the concrete.

His wounded leg gave way beneath him. He tried to crawl. Then a pair of polished shoes stopped in front of him.

Max lifted his head, gritting his teeth. He saw Matteo.

His face was frighteningly calm.

"You..." Max’s face paled.

Matteo stared down at him. "You really thought you could escape?"

Max tried to move backward. "Please... Let me go..."

Matteo kicked him hard before he could finish speaking.

"Ugh..." Max groaned in pain, curling up into a ball.

"You crippled my brother." Another blow landed. "You tried to destroy my family."

Matteo kicked him again. "You think a few bullets are enough to protect you?"

Max raised his arms desperately to shield himself, but Matteo continued beating him. His vision blurred. His body became numb.

The last thing Max remembered was Matteo’s cold, furious face above him.

Then everything went black.

Several hours...

When Max regained consciousness, the first thing he felt was pain. His entire body ached. He tried to move.

A sharp agony shot through his leg.

He gasped and opened his eyes. He was lying on a narrow bed inside the warehouse. His wounded leg was already bandaged.

Panicked, he looked around and saw Matteo sitting beside him.

He was leaning back in a chair, watching him with a faint, sinister smile.

Max’s breath caught. He instinctively tried to move away.

"Good to see you awake." Matteo stood.

Max’s eyes widened. "Please... Don’t hurt me."

Matteo grabbed his injured leg. His fingers pressed directly into the wound.

"Ahhh!" Max screamed.

Matteo laughed. He tightened his grip. Seeing Max in pain satisfied him.

Max’s entire body jerked. "Stop! Please!"

"You crippled my brother," Matteo barked. "How could your legs possibly remain fine?"

He pressed harder.

Max cried out again, tears springing into his eyes.

"You will pay for what you did." Matteo released him.

Max gasped for air. His entire body trembled in pain.

Matteo reached for a hockey stick lying against the wall. Before Max could regain his composure, Matteo swung the stick and struck his leg.

Max screamed.

Another blow followed, then another.

"Please! Stop!" His cries echoed through the empty warehouse. "Don’t hit me."

Matteo didn’t listen. His anger had consumed whatever restraint he possessed. Every blow was fueled by the image of Felix lying unconscious in the ICU.

"You wanted to destroy my brother?" Another strike. "Then lose everything you have."

He continued hitting him. He acted as though he had lost all his sanity.

Max’s screams gradually became hoarse. His vision blurred. He heard the terrible cracks of his bones.

His body went rigid. The pain became unbearable. He couldn’t scream anymore.

Darkness swallowed him once again.

Matteo threw the stick away, panting.

A doctor appeared from behind. He examined Max’s legs carefully, checking the fractures and the damage to the surrounding tissue.

Matteo stood nearby, wiping his hands. "What is the condition?"

The doctor hesitated. "His injuries are severe. I am afraid he won’t be able to walk again."

Matteo’s expression remained cold.

The doctor met his gaze. "The damage to both legs is extensive. The bones have suffered multiple fractures, and the surrounding tissue has been badly damaged. Even with surgery and rehabilitation, there is no realistic possibility of him walking again."

Max, barely conscious, heard every word. His eyes slowly opened. "No..."

The doctor continued quietly. "He will require long-term medical care. He may need a wheelchair permanently."

Max’s lips trembled. His career as a doctor was over. His freedom was gone. And now even his ability to walk had been taken from him.

Matteo glanced at the unconscious man on the bed. "Throw him away."

Matteo turned his back and walked away without another glance.

The guards immediately stepped forward and dragged Max’s limp body away.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!