Arista's Code

The lawyer managed to get Benji bailed out quickly.

The moment he stepped out of the interrogation room, he charged straight at me, finger jabbing at my nose.

The lawyer hurriedly stepped in front of him. "Benji, calm down. This is a police station."

Benji shoved him aside. "Shut your mouth! You don't get to talk here!"

He fixed me with a murderous glare. "When we get home, I'm going to break your legs! I'll make sure you won't be able to crawl your way out of our home again!"

His voice echoed through the station hallway, raw and unrestrained with hatred.

I ignored his roaring and, right in front of the officers, pulled a notebook and pen from my bag.

"9:15 PM, police station," I read aloud as I wrote. "Suspect Benji has again issued a personal threat against me. He threatened to intentionally cause grievous bodily harm—specifically, breaking my legs—

and further showing intent of unlawful confinement."

Benji's expression froze. He clearly hadn't expected me to take this step.

My adoptive mother, trembling with rage, lunged at me, trying to snatch the notebook.

"How far do you intend to take this?! Look at what you've done to Carmen! If anything happens to her, I swear I'll kill you!"

She jabbed a finger at my face, voice sharp and crying.

"You will kneel and apologize to Carmen right now! Or get out of our family! I'll act as if I never had a daughter like you!"

Just then, Carmen, who had been hiding behind Benji, clutched her chest, went limp, and collapsed into Benji's arms.

Pale and weak, she gasped, "Benji… don't blame Arista. It's all my fault… I shouldn't be alive… I've dragged everyone down."

Benji's eyes reddened with anguish as he held her horizontally in his arms.

He turned toward me, and the murderous intent in his gaze almost seemed to seep out.

"Arista, if anything happens to Carmen, I'll make you pay with one of your hands!"

Cradling Carmen, he hurried out.

I called after his retreating figure calmly, "Illegal organ trade and harvesting is a serious crime. Even one hand is enough for years in prison. I suggest you make a right turn out the door and get yourself a psychiatric evaluation first."

Benji's steps faltered for a moment, but he ultimately left without looking back.

The hallway fell silent, leaving only me and my adoptive father.

He glared at me like I was a stranger.

"From now on, all your cards are canceled. Hand over your car keys. Our family's reputation will not be ruined by someone like you. You won't be staying in the villa anymore—go to the servants' quarters at the back."

He tossed a bank card at my feet.

"When you've thought things through, I want you to repent and apologize properly. Until then, don't expect a single penny from us."

I looked down at the card and said nothing.

He thought I had yielded. Snorting, he turned and left.

But in that moment I looked down, the tiny camera hidden in my brooch had already captured everything clearly—threats, abuse, abandonment.

The chain of evidence was complete.