Chapter 2The Price of Your Redemption

In my previous life, right after I snitched, Clara's parents locked her inside and forcefully severed all ties between her and Marcus.

Clara wept day in and day out, staging hunger strikes to protest.

It broke my heart, but my hands were tied.

Her parents assured me I hadn't done anything wrong, promising that once the storm passed, Clara would realize it had all been for her own good.

Later, when Clara cut me off for five years, they were the ones quietly comforting me.

When Marcus was finally thrown behind bars, they felt so vindicated by what I had done that they showed up at my house with gifts, thanking me profusely.

Once Clara forgave me, our parents pushed us together, and we naturally walked down the aisle.

Her parents were overjoyed. They had watched me grow up and felt completely at ease entrusting Clara to me.

Sadly, she ended up disappointing them all. Clara never appreciated my good intentions.

She went so far as to throw her own life into the fire just to drag me straight to hell.

The twenty-year-old Clara came barging in, her face twisted in rage.

"Leo! What did you tell my parents? Did you—"

"I just invited them over to my place for dinner tomorrow."

"Are you... for real?"

"For real."

Clara nodded, satisfied.

"Leo, if you ever dare say a word behind my back, I will hate you for the rest of my life!"

I curled my lip dismissively.

"That's your business. Nobody has the right to micromanage your life."

"Sorry. In the past, I stuck my nose where it didn't belong. I crossed the line."

Probably caught off guard by my sudden change in attitude, Clara looked thoroughly confused.

"Leo, what is wrong with you today?"

"Forget it, Marcus is here to pick me up. I'm going out on my date. You'd better keep your mouth shut like you promised."

With a completely deadpan expression, I watched Clara skip out the door and hop onto the back of Marcus's flashy motorcycle.

Marcus had greasy, shoulder-length hair bleached an obnoxious mustard yellow and tied into a sloppy low ponytail.

He wore a tight muscle tee that showed off sleeves of cheap tattoos.

Lounging on the bike behind dark shades, he oozed arrogant apathy.

Clara was head over heels for that exact look, claiming he had an "edge," that he was so bad, so cool, so gorgeous.

Looking at it now, Clara was simply cut from the exact same cloth as Marcus. Birds of a feather.

Why on earth should I have ever waded into that sewer?

Before long, Clara started staying out late every single night, running wild with Marcus.

Her parents asked me about her whereabouts multiple times, but I brushed them off, claiming I had no idea.

Still, secrets don't stay buried forever. Through whispers and neighborhood gossip, her parents eventually tracked her down.

They walked in to find her curled up in Marcus's lap on a dingy dive bar sofa. She was so out of it she didn't even notice her parents standing right in front of her.

Her father turned crimson with rage. He yanked Clara up by her arm and delivered a harsh slap across her face.

Her pale cheek instantly swelled up.

Dead drunk, Clara collapsed onto the floor and began heaving violently.

Still seething, her father swung around and slapped Marcus across the face too.

Marcus was never one to take a blow sitting down. He spat a wad of phlegm right into her father's face, then struck back with a brutal backhand that sent the older man crashing to the floor.

"Fuck you, you old piece of shit! You dare touch me? I'll end you!"

Before anyone could react, Marcus snatched an empty beer bottle off the table, raising it high to smash it over her father's skull.

I rushed in, kicked Marcus square in the chest, and hauled her father back to his feet.

I didn't give a damn if Clara lived or died, but her parents hadn't done anything wrong. I had to protect them.

Furious, Marcus lunged at me, and we rolled into a violent brawl. Although he had brute strength from the alcohol, his reflexes were sluggish.

After a few rounds, I gained the upper hand, walking away with only a few minor cuts and bruises.

Marcus, on the other hand, lost two front teeth, grimacing in agony.

The brawl only ended when the sirens wailed and the police arrived. Because we had engaged in mutual combat, Marcus and I were thrown into lockup for twenty-four hours.

Clara, completely wasted, was rushed to the ER by her parents.