Chapter 1822

Vivian's eyes gleamed with mischief as she whispered, "Next time, I'll bring something—something just for hitting people. That way, I can keep my hands clean and still make them pay for you." Her mind was already spinning with ideas. She would concoct something that caused painful, itchy welts to bloom across their skin, making them suffer the same torment they had inflicted. Manfred smiled and nodded. "Sounds good." Their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them. Outside the door, the maid remained unfazed, receiving no response from Manfred. She was accustomed to his silence. Getting him to speak was nearly impossible, especially now that he was hovering on the brink of death. No one had bothered to summon a doctor for his injuries despite being beaten so brutally by Randall Atkinson. He might even end up a cripple after this. He was no more valuable to them than a maid—perhaps even less so. A broken, useless man wasn't worth the trouble. "If you still won't an