After Her Sister's Death, She Unleashed Hell on the Family

“Ava, don’t cry! I’ll come and save you!”

He charged like a madman to the door of a bar.

I followed him inside and saw a pure-looking woman being dragged into a private room by several drunks.

Noah’s eyes flared with rage. He grabbed a wine bottle and rushed forward.

The bar manager recognized him and immediately ordered his staff to pull the drunks away.

The leader of the group, a burly man with a dark face, was struck by Noah and forced to kneel on the ground, sobering up quickly.

He pointed at me, standing behind Noah and pleaded for mercy.

“It was all her idea! Miss Olivia, you didn’t tell us this girl had a special status...”

The drunken men all turned to me, begging for help.

Ava threw herself into Noah’s arms.

“Noah, I’m so scared... Did Olivia ask them to teach me a lesson?”

“Olivia, I know. Ever since Jack’s accident, you’ve been afraid I’d take Noah away from you.”

“So, you wanted to find these people to ruin me, right?”

Slap!

Before I could speak, Noah slapped me hard across the face.

“Olivia, I never thought you could be so vicious!

You’ve dirtied yourself, so now you want to drag Ava down with you? Since that’s the case, you’d better take the punishment from these men for her!”

I stood there, stunned. Noah was even more of a lunatic than I was.

“Didn’t you just say you wanted me to give birth to this child properly?”

“You don’t deserve it!”

Leaving those words behind, he waved his hand and shoved me and the drunken men into the private room together.

As the door locked behind us, the leader’s face twisted into something sinister.

“Miss Olivia, do you remember us?”

“Half a year ago, we had a day and night of fun… Tonight, we’ll make sure you have a good time again…”

I suddenly understood, these were the same men who had kidnapped and abused my sister.

Ava had found them to recreate the scene, intending to hurt her again.

Looking at the various props on the table, I smiled in satisfaction.

How wonderful.

Line up and I’ll take you one by one.

The dark-faced man lit a cigarette and blew smoke into my face.

“I’ve never played with a pregnant woman before. This must feel amazing!”

I snatched the cigarette and pressed it hard against his right eye.

“Ah!” The stench of burning flesh filled the air.

As he screamed, I kicked him hard in the groin.

The dark-faced thug instantly curled up on the ground like a martial artist, writhing in pain.

“You dare to fight back, you bitch! I’ll beat you to death!”

The second man picked up the spiked whip from the table and swung it at me.

I caught it, wrapped it around his neck several times and yanked hard.

He let out a blood-curdling scream, clutching the torn flesh on his neck before collapsing.

“Damn it, this woman has strength! Let’s take her down together!”

The third man grabbed me from behind and the fourth kicked me in the stomach.

When his foot made contact with my belly, he hesitated.

I gave him a wicked smile, grabbed his leg and drove my elbow into it.

Crack. He howled in pain, clutching his broken limb.

I reached back, seized the hair of the man behind me and threw him over my shoulder.

Then I pounced, striking him left and right, each punch landing squarely on his face.

Ten minutes later, the men were bound and gagged, smelly socks stuffed into their mouths.

I looked over my handiwork with satisfaction and flexed my aching fists.

It had been over a decade since I’d gotten to beat someone like that.

The last time was when I took down that school bully.

He’d mocked me, saying I was too weak to fight.

He hadn’t known I was born with freakish strength, three punches and he was dead.

Even in the mental hospital, I never slacked off.