My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 137: Who Hired You?

Chapter 137: Who Hired You?

The air inside the warehouse was heavy, thick with dust and silence. A single beam of light cut through the high window, catching on the fine particles in the air. The photographer knelt on the concrete floor, wrists bound behind him, his knees pressed against the cold ground. Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the dirt on his face.

Eryx squatted in front of him, elbows resting on his knees, the distance between them close, uncomfortably so. He looked relaxed, but not his eyes.

"Name?" Eryx asked, voice calm but devoid of warmth.

The photographer flinched, lips trembling as he stammered, "G-Gordon..."

Eryx tilted his head slightly, then reached out and tapped Gordon’s cheek. Once, twice, a third time, each one a bit harder than the last. Not enough to bruise, but sharp enough to sting and snap his attention back.

"I know your name," Eryx said, his tone now clipped, eyes narrowing. "I’m asking who told you to slam my head into the ground."

Gordon’s breath caught. His eyes darted around the room, but there was no escape. Callum stood a few steps behind Eryx, standing still, silent and watchful.

Eryx didn’t move, waiting, the weight of his stare pressing down like a warning.

"I acted by myself and hired them," Gordon said, his eyes flickering to the men already lying unconscious on the floor.

Eryx’s voice was calm, but sharp. "And how did you know I would be coming out that night?"

Gordon flinched, his breath hitching at the intensity of the question. His eyes darted nervously, and before he could respond, Eryx raised his hand, a gesture that hung in the air like a warning.

"I don’t like wasting time," Eryx said, his tone a quiet promise.

Gordon remained silent, his jaw clenched tightly as he avoided Eryx’s gaze. Eryx, unfazed by the man’s silence, moved swiftly. He grabbed Gordon by the collar and pulled him up, forcing the man to face him. With a cold, controlled motion, Eryx threw a punch directly into Gordon’s stomach.

The air rushed out of Gordon’s lungs in a strained gasp. His body buckled from the impact, and he staggered backward, struggling to maintain his balance. Finally, he collapsed weakly onto the floor, groaning in pain, his hands clutching his stomach. His breath came in shallow, labored gasps as he curled into himself, trying to recover.

Eryx stood over him, unmoved by the man’s reaction. "You can keep your silence, but that won’t make you less useful." He leaned down slightly, his voice a low warning. "Let me help you remember the name."

Gordon’s eyes flickered with fear, but he still refused to speak. His breathing was ragged, and sweat started to roll down from his forehead. He trembled, but the silence between them stretched longer than he had anticipated.

Eryx took a slow step back, watching him for a moment before he gave a brief nod to his men standing nearby. One of them approached and grabbed a bucket of cold water, splashing it harshly over Gordon’s face. The sudden shock sent a jolt through Gordon, and he gasped for air, his head snapping up.

"Who paid you?" Eryx asked again, his voice steady and dangerously calm. The tension in the room was palpable, as if the very air itself was waiting for Gordon to break.

Gordon’s body shook as the cold water dripped down his face, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. He tried to steady himself, but the pressure of Eryx’s stare felt suffocating.

The silence dragged on for a few moments before Eryx spoke again, his tone low and steady, but the danger behind it unmistakable. "You know, I’d rather not make this any harder on you."

Gordon’s eyes darted around the room, panic rising in his chest. He could feel his resolve slipping, the pain from the punch and the constant threat of more weighing heavily on him. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words faltered on his tongue.

Eryx stepped closer, leaning in slightly. "Give me the bat..." he said calmly, his voice laced with an unsettling calmness. One of his men quickly handed over the weapon, and Eryx grasped it firmly, the weight of it in his hand almost symbolic of the control he held over the situation.

He straightened up, turning to face Gordon with a look that could freeze anyone in their tracks. "I’m giving you one last chance, Gordon. Who hired you?"

Gordon’s breath came in quick, shallow gasps as he shook his head, eyes darting around the room as if searching for some way out of the nightmare he had found himself in. The bat in Eryx’s hand seemed to loom over him, an undeniable threat.

"I... I don’t know, okay?" Gordon’s voice cracked, desperation seeping into his words. "I was just—"

The swoosh of air sliced through the space beside Gordon’s head, his body freezing in place as the bat came down with a sharp, controlled swing. The heavy thud of it stopping just an inch from his right temple sent a jolt of terror straight through him.

Eryx’s face remained calm, his grip on the bat unyielding as he hovered it threateningly by Gordon’s ear. His voice was eerily soft, yet the menace behind it was undeniable. "Don’t waste my time, Gordon. Who hired you?"

Gordon trembled, his chest heaving with fear as he struggled to catch his breath. Sweat trickled down his forehead, and his eyes darted nervously between Eryx and the bat still poised just beside his head as if ready to be swung to hit a ball for a homerun.

Eryx’s eyes narrowed, the bat in his hand rising again as he prepared to strike. "Last chance," he said in a cold, calm voice, his presence suffocating.

Gordon hesitated, his body shaking uncontrollably as he looked down at the ground, his mind racing. But the sight of the bat swinging down with terrifying speed broke him. "Matilda!" he screamed, the words spilling out in a desperate rush. "Matilda Grantham! She’s the one who hired me! Please... I swear, that’s all I know! Please!"

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