The old man watched the scene unfold on the screen, his eyes burning with a dark, twisted satisfaction. His hands clenched into fists as the flames of anger inside him flickered higher. Every moment, every word, every glance from Esme and those brothers, it all fed his rage. They would regret everything. They would feel the pain he'd suffered—the unbearable sting of loss that had robbed him of his daughter. When Ray died, the joy was a bitter, hollow thrill. But it wasn't enough. No. Esme was still alive. She was still breathing. And she, along with those brothers, would pay. His mind twisted with vengeance. He wanted them broken, shattered—living a life worse than death. A life where every breath they took was a plea for an end. Only then would he be satisfied.