Stolen By My Billionaire Brother-In-Law-Chapter 28: A Devil From Hell

[Back in the Emmerich Mansion]

The servants immediately returned to their quarters as the butler hushed them away at their master’s entry. The way Emmerich was fuming, many were sure his children had caused some trouble again and would be facing his wrath. It had always been the case, and unlike every time, luckily Rivana wasn’t here to bear it on behalf of her siblings.

Emmerich dragged Rafaelo inside the hall. Amerie and Rubina hurried behind, both sour after losing to Rivana earlier.

"Dad! Please listen to me!" Rafaelo begged, grabbing onto Emmerich’s hand like a lost puppy. He was almost ready to kneel in front of him, but just then his mother stepped in to help him out.

"Raise your hand again and I won’t sit quietly." Gianna’s voice boomed through the hall. She walked down the stairs, her glare fixed on Emmerich, who was this close to bashing his stupid son again.

"Do you even have any idea what he did?" Emmerich glowered, glaring back at his wife.

Gianna heaved a sigh and murmured, "It was live-streamed on the internet. I watched every bit of how we were defeated by Riv and her new husband."

Emmerich gritted his teeth at her words, and so did Amerie, silently scowling at her rival. Meeting her gaze, Gianna added, "And also, it was your sweet daughter’s idea. She was the one who forced Rafaelo to sell your shares."

Emmerich turned around to face Rubina, who almost flinched as if she could feel his glare toward her. The way she lowered her face as if admitting her crimes only frustrated Emmerich more.

"It’s true. But Ruby just wanted to help you out, Honey." Amerie quickly took Rubina’s side. "She felt you would be pleased by the idea and wanted to surprise you."

"And you sure gave him a bigger surprise," Gianna mocked, her scoff making Amerie grit her teeth. They could never be on good terms, but Gianna should at least take her side since they had a common enemy to defeat.

"It’s all their fault, so don’t you dare take it out on my son." Gianna continued, frustration clear in her tone. Yes, Rafaelo had made a mistake, but he needed to be reprimanded alone, not specifically in front of the whole media and also Amerie, who enjoyed bringing him down.

Grabbing Rafaelo’s hand, Gianna warned, "I won’t let it slide again if you humiliate him in front of others." With that, she dragged her stupid son upstairs.

Emmerich sneered at his wife’s disappearing back. Running a hand through his hair, he turned around to Rubina, his expression murderous.

Amerie pushed Rubina forward, cueing her to pull out her card. Tears started to stream out of the poor, blind woman’s eyes, and she knelt down on the ground.

"I... I am sorry, Dad. I made a terrible mistake, please punish me." Rubina murmured, her loud sobs filling the room. Clutching onto her dress tightly, she added, "I deserve to die for humiliating you in front of everyone. Please punish me..."

Emmerich’s gaze softened slightly, his heart melting hearing his daughter’s cries. Heaving a heavy sigh, he bent down and helped her stand up. Amerie let out a sigh of relief, a small smile spreading on her face as Emmerich pulled Rubina into a hug.

"Stop crying," he said, wiping away her tears. Rubina gratefully nodded at him, mentally making up her mind. Rivana would pay for making her suffer like this.

---

Azrael’s car stopped in front of an abandoned mansion. The area around was eerie, with dried, long trees casting ghostly shadows in the moonlight. The mansion itself looked like a relic from a bygone era, its once grand facade now crumbling and overgrown with ivy.

Inside, however, was a stark contrast to the outside. The interior was modern, with sleek wallpapers, a grand staircase in the middle, and luxurious furniture. It had been modified to be the perfect spot for their mafia business until their real building was completed.

Dawn rushed to greet him. "Boss!" He quickly led Azrael through a narrow corridor, stopping in front of a large bookshelf on the wall.

Dawn took out a book and pressed his hand on the screen behind it, which blended completely with the black wall. Once his identity was confirmed, the bookshelf thundered lightly before turning around, revealing a hidden passage to the basement. The basement was divided into different rooms, each specializing in a specific task or duty.

Azrael walked through the lounge, and all his men bowed to greet him on his way. His eyes fell on one of the cells, where loud cries were heard. They had already caught the men who had chased Rivana’s car. Under his men’s special care, they had even confessed that it was Viktor who had hired them, having ordered them to kidnap Rivana.

A scoff escaped Azrael’s mouth as he recalled their words. Once Rivana was kidnapped, Viktor wanted to burst through and save her like a knight in shining armor. It was ridiculously lousy how he thought this stupid act might make Rivana forgive him for cheating on her and get back to him.

Alas, someone else decided to break his plans, and his team had caught that man already. It was easy to track Viktor’s men, whom they had effortlessly caught within a few hours. But this man who had burnt Rivana’s car was a bit difficult, but they efficiently tracked him too.

Dawn opened the door to one of the dimly lit cells, and they were welcomed by the sight of a man hung. His physique was lean but muscular, his hands tied to poles above his head, while his feet were locked inside a plastic box containing a big block of ice. He was made to stand on the ice cube, his face covered in bruises and lashes on his upper body, evidence of the torture he had endured.

Callum, who had been observing his guys playing with the bastard, turned around at Azrael’s entry. Taking the tablet, he walked over and briefed, "He is a serious offender, with many cases of attempted murder, assault, and rape filed against him. The cops have also been tracking him down as he had escaped from jail recently."

"Escaped or released?" Azrael asked, looking at the profile.

"We will dig into it," Callum replied, both looking at the man. Azrael nodded and passed back the tablet. He took off his jacket, which Dawn swiftly took. Then he rolled up his sleeves, his eyes never leaving the man who had dared to kill Rivana. His Rivana...

"Get me a cigarette," Azrael demanded, his voice a low growl like that of a lion hungry for its prey.

Callum nodded, gesturing to one of his juniors to get a lighter. He couldn’t help feeling a little excited, quite sure they would be having a delightful show. Azrael rarely took care of their targets, but when he did, it would be an absolute delight to watch.

One of them brought a chair, and Azrael settled on it. "Release him," he ordered, taking out his lighter from his pocket. The lighter was luxurious, big, black, and adorned with a dragon.

Two men pushed forward the fragile man, who came to his consciousness. He was dragged forward, his eyes widening as they landed on Azrael. A cynical smirk lifted his bruised face, and he wiped the blood off his nose, looking exactly like the psychopath the doctors had written about in the police reports.

"So the dragon finally decided to show up," Gale joked, as the men stopped him in front of Azrael and forced him to kneel.

Azrael looked at him, his expression oddly calm, but the fire in his eyes glowed brightly. The cigarette packet was brought, and one was passed to Azrael. He lit it up and drew a long puff, looking every bit the mafia boss he was.

"Who hired you?" Azrael asked, his voice low but lethal.

Gale didn’t reply and simply laughed out loud like a maniac. Callum clenched his fists, ready to punch his face again as he had been like this for a few hours, annoying them by not spitting the truth.

But Azrael’s expression didn’t change, serious and unreadable. He drew another puff and, when Gale looked at him, he casually asked, "Need a smoke?"

"Sure." Gale nodded with a smirk. People didn’t get to even sit in front of this dangerous man, and he was blessed to smoke with him. It was indeed a great privilege.

Azrael took out his cigarette and passed it. But just as Gale raised his hand and was about to take it, Azrael grabbed his hand. Gale’s expression faltered, fear visible in his eyes, and he tried to release it, but Azrael’s grip was like a vice.

"Is this the hand that installed the incendiary device in her car?" Azrael asked, his eyes boring into Gale’s. He looked very serious, like the ruler of hell. Gale gulped anxiously, a chill running down his spine. But before he could reply, Azrael forcefully opened his hand, making it straight. He then placed the cigarette on Gale’s palm, digging it deeper into his flesh until the fire was out.

Gale cried out loud, the fire tearing into his skin. Another growl left his mouth as it bore into his flesh, excruciatingly painful.

"So, who hired you?" Azrael asked again, throwing away the cigarette that was now out. When the man didn’t reply and stubbornly shut his mouth, Azrael took out his lighter again.

Gale’s eyes widened in shock, knowing exactly what Azrael might do to him. Before he could attempt to move back, Azrael gripped his palm tightly, Gale’s trembling fingers ready to be his guests.

"These must be the fingers that opened that kerosene can, right?" Azrael asked his tone calm but sending Gale into a shiver. Flicking open the lighter, Azrael moved closer and burnt his thumb. Gale broke into cries as Azrael deliberately and slowly burnt his thumb before moving to his next finger. He believed in fair treatment, and all his fingers would be burnt to ashes tonight.

Callum, who was standing right behind Azrael’s chair, took out a candy from his pocket. Unwrapping it, he popped it into his mouth, enjoying the torture. Azrael was called the devil from hell for a reason, his methods were uniquely cruel. Many others watched with satisfaction as their boss burnt Gale’s fingers like they were sticks of barbecue. Gale’s cries echoed through the room, but two men held him firmly in place, allowing Azrael to enjoy his sadistic game.

"I will tell! I will tell!" Gale cried out loud as the pain became unbearable.

Azrael finally stopped. Closing the lighter, he released Gale and leaned back in his chair. Gale looked at his burnt fingers, the flesh red with torture. He had heard Azrael was deranged, but to this extent, he had never imagined.

"Spit it out, you moron!" Callum barked. Stepping closer, he kicked the man in the face, making him stumble back and hit the floor hard. Blood oozed from Gale’s nose again, and the men helped him sit straight.

Gale looked up at Azrael and murmured, "It... It was your uncle, Ezekiel Dynar."