Tokio's villa was very comfortable, even though it was fairly small. There was an indoor swimming pool inside, with a view that looked directly over Karen's bedroom.
The fish pond was located on the left side of the pool's corner wall. There were also two lounge chairs that could be used for sunbathing.
Karen was standing in front of the mirror, staring at her bandaged face. She wanted to see how much she had changed now. Slowly, she began cutting the cloth, peeling it away layer by layer, keeping her eyes open the whole time.
Her gaze landed on the wound on her cheek—a cut, maybe around two or three centimeters long, she wasn't sure. But aside from the stitched wound, there were no other injuries. Karen lifted her shirt, biting the hem while her other hand pulled down the waistband of her pants.
Her waist was still wrapped in bandages. When she gently brushed her fingers over the fabric, she winced. Her mind drifted back to what the doctor had said when she was allowed to leave the hospital that day.
"Luckily, medical technology is very advanced now. I'll recommend you to a doctor in Germany. He's well known for treating scars."
"I don't need it," Karen replied flatly.
"Of course you do," the doctor insisted with a laugh. "You're a woman. That scar will affect your appearance."
In the end, it was Tokio who took the recommendation letter, because Karen refused to do anything to her face.
"I didn't know the wound was that big," Aaron said, standing with his back against the wall.
Karen had no idea how the man managed to get in without making a single sound. She hadn't even heard the door open. Calmly, she fixed her clothes and acted as if he wasn't there at all.
Realizing that Karen thought he was the mastermind behind the attack, Aaron walked closer with lazy steps. "If I were the one who did it, all my victims would be dead."
Karen blinked once, then slowly turned to look at him. Aaron noticed her gaze—it was the same as the first time they met. Flat. Empty.
"I don't care whether it was you or not. What happened already happened."
"But I can help you. I can find out who's behind all this," Aaron offered as he sat on the bed.
"Don't need it."
"Alright, correction. You have to tell me who did this to you. Because they used my name, and that stains my reputation."
Karen looked away and didn't answer. Aaron let out a patient sigh. "You won't tell me? Fine. I'll handle it myself." He closed the distance in three long steps, his eyes immediately locking onto her face. The wound was deep, the stitches still clearly visible. "It's a pretty long scar. I doubt any man will chase after you now."
Karen gave no response. She didn't even move a finger. Her mind slipped back to the past—back to when she didn't want to get close to anyone, or interact with anyone at all.
***
"Why do you think you were thrown away, huh?! Because you're a bastard! An unwanted child!" the orphanage head screamed, swinging a whip toward Karen.
"No! My mom wanted me!" Karen cried, shielding herself.
"Your mother threw you away! Because you were never wanted! You're nothing but bad luck!"
"You're lying!"
"I'm not," the whip slipped from the woman's hand as she grabbed Karen's thin arm, her nails digging into flesh. "You were dumped in a ditch, inside a cardboard box! I still remember bringing you here, covered in blood! Your mother abandoned you, Karen!"
Karen stared at her with wide, watery eyes. "I wasn't abandoned!"
"No. You were just unwanted. No one ever hoped you'd live."
Karen jolted awake, gasping for air. She hadn't dreamed about that in a long time. Why tonight? She swallowed hard and reached for the lamp—only to realize someone else was in her room.
A woman with dark honey-colored hair sat on a chair by the large window. Her curls were loose and wavy, her lips painted bright red. She looked at Karen calmly, fingers interlaced around a gun.
Karen, startled awake, slowly slipped her hand into her pillow, gripping the folding knife Tokio had given her.
"Who are you?" Karen asked flatly.
The woman lazily played with the gun, ignoring the question.
"Where's Jehd?" Karen asked again.
The woman pulled the trigger lightly as she answered, "Downstairs. With my friends." She smiled faintly.
"Who… are you?" Karen repeated.
"Me? I'm Syahlom."
"I don't know you," Karen said, tightening her grip on the knife.
Syahlom approached, tracing the cold barrel of the gun along Karen's face. Karen stared at the small dark hole at the tip. This wasn't a toy. It was real.
Karen didn't know Syahlom. She had never seen her before. She didn't know her motive either. But she was sure the woman knew Tokio—she knew Jehd.
The door suddenly burst open as several men dragged Jehd inside. He was unconscious, bloodied, clearly beaten badly. "You don't know me, Karen. But I know you."
Karen frowned deeply. For a moment, she wondered if Syahlom was from the orphanage—but she remembered clearly. There was no one named Syahlom there.
So who was this crazy woman with a gun?
As if reading her thoughts, Syahlom bent forward, pressing the gun under Karen's chin, forcing her to look up.
"I used to be Aaron's girlfriend. Because of you, I was thrown away."
"Is that why you want revenge on me?" Karen guessed.
Syahlom laughed coldly. "Not you, sweetheart. Aaron. I'll make him regret dumping me. I'll repay that humiliation with your life."
"I have nothing to do with Aaron Tokugawa," Karen hissed.
"You're good at acting. I followed him for days. You're his target. Or what—are you already one of his sex toys?"
Karen reacted instantly, slashing the knife toward Syahlom's neck.
"I'm nobody's toy."
Syahlom froze in shock. Karen used the moment to kick her hard in the stomach and roll away.
The gun went off, firing into the wall. Karen rolled off the bed and ran for the door—only for another man to grab her from below, wrenching the knife away and throwing it aside. He dragged her back into the room.
Syahlom, still hurting, stood up and slapped Karen over and over.
Karen couldn't fight back—both her arms were restrained. She tasted blood in her mouth. "Asshole! You slut!"
Her cheek burned as the blows kept coming. Syahlom finally stepped back, breathing heavily, then clicked off the safety on her gun. She pressed the gun into Karen's abdomen.
Karen groaned as it pushed against her surgical wound. "You already lost one ovary. How about I take the other?"
Karen looked at her with pity. "Do you know why he left you?"
"Because of you," Syahlom snapped.
Karen shook her head. "Because you're a pathetic, insane woman."
Syahlom slammed the gun into Karen's forehead. Blood trickled down as dizziness hit. "I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"
"The second you pull that trigger, this gun goes through your head," a new voice coming and it was Aaron when he said coldly.
Syahlom stared in disbelief as Aaron stepped in. Eji stood behind him with a rifle, while Toma licked the edge of his knife.
Karen couldn't believe Aaron came—after everything. How i wish they kill each other, she said in her mind.
Syahlom grabbed Karen from behind, yanking her hair back and pressing the knife to her neck.
"Drop your weapons!" she screamed.
Eji and Toma looked to Aaron. His face remained calm, almost bored.
"Just leave, Syahlom," he said flatly.
"You think I won't do it?!"
Aaron clicked his tongue, took Eji's rifle, and aimed it straight at her. Syahlom hid behind Karen, her man readying another knife.
"Do you trust me, Karen?" Aaron asked suddenly.
Karen's answer was even more shocking. "If you're going to kill me, do it quickly."
Aaron smiled coldly, closing one eye as he aimed. Blood slid down Karen's neck where the blade grazed her skin.
A gunshot rang out. Karen felt pain at her ear, her eardrum ringing like crazy, as Syahlom's body fell backward, dragging her down.
Toma threw his blade into the other man's stomach. The man collapsed, blood spilling as he fell.
Aaron rushed to Karen, crouching beside her. He checked the wound on her neck, frowning. He opened his coat and pressed it against the cut, helping her up. "Eji, take care of the bodies. Toma, get Jehd to the hospital and call Tokio," he ordered, carrying Karen out.
"What do you think you're doing?" Karen asked weakly.
"Cleaning up the mess."
When Karen tried to look back, Aaron kicked the door shut and glared at her. "Don't look at corpses. You'll puke. I don't want you ruining my suit."
She struggled, but his grip tightened, not letting her go. "The police will come. And this time, Yaro won't save you. My men will be gone by then," Aaron smirked.
"What about Tokio—"
"Think about yourself first."
He set her down at the car, opened the door, pushed her inside, then drove them away.