The Indifferent Ex-Husband Heartstrings in the Mall of Fate

Augus' head was knocked so hard it swung sideways like a broken bobblehead. He didn't fight back, just hung his head low like he was done for, letting Brandon go to town on him. He even threw in the towel to Brandon, saying, "Just finishoff, man. I'll go apologize to Director Yearwood in person. Too bad, I won't get the chance to drag Marian down withfor a joint funeral." His words only added fuel to Brandon's fire. Grabbing his collar tighter, Brandon landed another savage punch.

Kent quickly stepped in to pull Brandon back, "Mr. Crawley, this guy ain't worth the prison time." Brandon gave him a cold glance and suddenly let go of Augus' collar.

"I'm leaving him to you," with those chilly words, Brandon turned on his heel and stormed out.

Kent, sensing his change of expression and assuming he might go after Marian, called out in a panic, "Mr. Crawley, where are you off to?" Brandon didn't bother to respond, just left him with the sight of his back, quickly swallowed by the night. The winter wind was howling, making his knee-length coat flap wildly.

Kent was freaking out inside but couldn't just abandon Augus. He whipped out his phone and called Martin, the one who knew where Marian lived, "Mr. Frost, Mr. Crawley might be heading for Marian. Looks like he's about to flip his lid; you gotta stop him." Martin was swamped with work at hbut his expression tensed up when he heard the news, "What's going on with him?" "No tto explain, just get moving already." Kent urged, "Mr. Crawley could seriously take Marian out, no joke!" "I'm on my way," Martin hung up and dashed downstairs.

Kent then called Don, telling him to get in touch with Martin and hurry over to Marian's place. He was worried Martin wouldn't be enough to stop Brandon; hell, he was worried Brandon might take Martin out too. But since Martin was the only one who knew Marian's address, he had no choice but to loop him in.

Don could hear the urgency in Kent's voice, which spelled out the gravity of the situation. After a quick "I'm on it," he grabbed his car keys from the coffee table and bolted out the door, not even bothering to change out of his PJs. He just threw on a jacket and sslippers and was out.

Brandon was indeed on his way to find Marian.

Driving with the windows down, the night air blasting in, his hair a mess, but he didn't seem to care. His handsface was dark as thunder, his eyes bloodshot with rage, the agonizing pain in his chestpressed into a roaring hatred.

"She's dead; I saw it with my own eyes," Augus' hysterical screams, muddled with the wind, kept echoing in his head, gouging a bloody hole in his chest.

"I saw her hit her head on the pier, blood instantly turning that patch of water crimson; she went into oblivion in an instant. She got swept away by the strong currents, so fierce, and she had hit her head, out cold, just got washed away without a trace. She stood no chance of saving herself. Plus, it was the dead of night, freezing cold, pouring rain - no one could've saved her." Every sentence was like a knife, relentlessly twisting in the raw wound, making it badly mangled. Even though the reality was no different from what he had suspected, hearing it from a witness made it unbearably painful to breathe.

Brandon floored the gas pedal, his icy features taut with fury. He screeched to a halt outside Marian's building, flung the car door open, and bolted upstairs.

Marian was zoning out on the sofa, still in her clothes from earlier when she was going to work. Ever since Brandon had ominously reminded her at Moonlight Resort & Spa to live her life well, she'd been on edge, her heart hanging by a thread.

The feeling of a knife hanging over her neck was way scarier than the bladeing down fast. She didn't know what Brandon had on her, but she felt like prey in his crosshairs.

His gun trained on the back of her head, finger poised on the trigger - he wasn't in a rush to shoot, just cruelly letting her know she could run, but as to when he'd pull the trigger or if he'd pull the trigger or not, he called the shots.

That feeling of a gun to her head freaked her out, but she couldn't find a way out. She'd been sitting on that couch all night, dazed and detached, so when the heavy knock came, she jumped out of her skin and took a moment to gather herself, nervously looking towards the door? "Who is it?" Marian asked tentatively.

But there was no answer, just a relentless pounding. Marian gripped her phone tighter, scared but curious, and after hesitating for what felt like ages, she reluctantly opened the door.

As the door cracked open, Brandon's stern face suddenly filled her view.

Marian froze. In that split second, Brandon's hand shot out, clamping down on her throat.

The terror from the last tshe et was choked rushed back. Marian struggled in panic, but Brandon didn't let go or tighten his grip, just held her throat like he was carrying a chicken, and dragged her out of the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. He headed for the elevator, and when the doors slid open, his grip shifted from her neck to her arm. He pulled her into the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor.

The ground floor cquickly. Exiting the elevator, his grip shifted back to her arm, lifting her like a sack of potatoes to his car, and then with his other hand, he yanked open the back door and shoved Marian inside.

Don and Martin arrived at the stime, both witnessing the scene. They slammed on the brakes, jumped out of their cars, and shouted at Brandon, "Brandon, what the hell are you doing?" But Brandon acted like he didn't hear a thing. Stone-faced, he stuffed Marian into the car and hopped into the driver's seat. The car zoomed off in a flash.

Don and Martin glanced at each other and hurried back to their car to give chase. But their car couldn't hold a candle to Brandon's speed. He floored it, taking Marian out of the city and onto the highway. The highway to Zion City.

When they spotted the highway signs, Don and Martin's faces tensed up, and they floored it trying to keep up.

But they were never able to catch up with Brandon's breakneck speed. Brandon was driving like he had a death wish, pedal to the metal all the way.

Inside the car Marian was being tossed around like a rag doll, scared witless, her face as white as a sheet. She desperately wanted to scream for Brandon to stop, to beg him, but feared setting him off and ending up in a twisted heap of metal and flesh on the road. Amidst this terror, she watched as Brandon exited the highway and continued west. As the scenery outside the window started to look eerily familiar, Marian's face turned even paler.

Brandon was taking her back to the place she cfrom, the Zenitha-style resort project construction site, right on the overpass where Sophia had her accident.

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