Entangled in the Night: Unable to Escape Him-Chapter 164: Everyone I Love Is Him

Seeing this person, and hearing these words, the smile in Silas’s eyes suddenly froze into an icy chill.

His face went pale, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.

Images of being kidnapped flooded his mind.

He’d desperately hoped his parents would come save him, but what he received instead was cold-hearted abandonment.

One chose his youngest son; the other chose her little cat.

Damien hadn’t lied—he really was worth less than a dog in their eyes.

With shaking hands, Silas fumbled in his pocket, lit a cigarette, trying to use nicotine to rein in his borderline insane emotions.

Seeing Silas wasn’t angry, Damien continued to sneer: "Silas, you were born unwanted, unloved by your father or your mother. Even if you were dying, none of them would care. Tell me, what’s the point of your life?"

"You think Sienna loves you? She’s just playing around. If she really loved you, she wouldn’t have left you all alone and still never come back."

"Silas, you’ve always been an unwanted piece of trash. Being the Family Head means nothing—you’ll never know real love. You’ll spend your whole life with that little bastard son of yours. Hahaha."

Damien laughed wildly, mouth stretched wide.

Just as he was basking in triumph, suddenly he felt something cold in his throat.

He hurriedly shut his mouth and swallowed the liquid with a gulp.

Julian held up a water pistol with a smirk: "Uncle, does my pee taste good?"

Damien erupted, spitting furiously and cursing out loud: "You fucking brat, spraying me with piss—you’re dead meat when I get my hands on you!"

Just as he reached out to grab Julian, something slammed viciously into his thigh.

With a cry of pain, he collapsed to his knees.

Sienna stood over him, a baseball bat in hand, her expression dark as she glared: "Who says no one in this world loves him? He’s got plenty—his grandfather, Julian, and me, Sienna."

"Who says Sienna left him? I am Sienna. I just came back with a new face. From start to finish, he’s been the one I loved."

"He doesn’t crave his parents’ love the way you do. They abandoned him first—he stopped caring long ago whether they kept him in their hearts or not."

"But look at you—twenty-six years old, forever flaunting Daddy’s love like some giant baby. Are you for real?"

Damien had never known such humiliation.

Pissed on by a child, scolded by a woman, and forced to kneel in front of Silas.

Fuming, he scrambled up, pointing at Sienna and yelling, "Don’t think being Sienna means I won’t touch you! Damien Prescott doesn’t take shit from anyone. I’ll make sure you regret today’s shame!"

With that, he swung his arm, aiming to hit Sienna.

But Silas instantly grabbed his wrist and twisted him face-down to the ground.

Silas still clamped the smoldering cigarette between his teeth, a sinister smile flickering in his eyes.

He pinned Damien with a powerful knee, immobilizing him completely.

Then he took the cigarette and pressed it, again and again, into Damien’s scalp.

Damien screamed in pain: "Silas! You bastard, touch me again and my dad will have your hide!"

"Argh, Silas, stop it! Damn it, I’m not ready to become a monk!"

His howls echoed in the villa garden, guttural as a pig being slaughtered.

Julian watched, not frightened at all—instead, he took up his water gun and sprayed at Damien’s smoking head.

Justifying himself, he declared, "Uncle, your head’s about to catch fire! I’m helping you put it out."

Already half-burnt with pain, the blast of water made Damien scream and shout desperately toward the main hall.

"Grandpa, help! My brother and his whole family are trying to kill me!"

Old Master Prescott ambled out, leisurely.

He cast a look at Damien, then at the others, his face cold as iron: "You asked for it. Deserved."

Damien, sweating and hurting, pleaded: "Grandpa, I’m your biological grandson too. You can’t just let me die!"

Old Master Prescott snorted: "Your brother is Family Head now. He has the right to deal with anyone in the Prescott Family. You show no respect; you dared poke his sorest wounds and insult him. This beating is well-deserved. If you want mercy, apologize, fast."

Damien was never used to this kind of defeat. He’d bullied Silas all his life, not the other way round.

Bitterly, he snarled: "I’m Dad’s most beloved son! Prescott Family’s future belongs to me! I’ll never bow to some unwanted piece of trash."

Hearing that, the coldness in Silas’s eyes deepened.

He kept burning Damien’s scalp, one searing press at a time.

Each time, Damien let out a bloodcurdling wail.

Eventually he just couldn’t take it, and softened his tone to beg for mercy.

"Bro, I was wrong. I shouldn’t have said that about you. Please, spare me."

At last, Silas let up, kicking him in the gut.

His face radiated a chilling authority.

"If you ever test my limits again, next time won’t be just a burn."

Damien clenched his teeth so hard it felt like they’d shatter.

Never in his life had he been this humiliated.

But with Prescott loyalists everywhere, he didn’t dare push his luck any further.

He slunk off to his car and left.

Once Damien was gone, Sienna tossed the bat aside, grabbed Silas’s hand, and gazed up at his pallid face, softly calling: "Brother."

Silas’s lips quivered slightly, that deadly look still clouding his eyes.

He locked gazes with Sienna’s dark, luminous eyes for a long while, before a low, hoarse voice escaped his throat: "Sienna, they’ve all abandoned me."

His voice overflowed with barely concealed pain.

Sienna’s heart twisted.

She could only imagine how many times Silas had gone through this as a child, and how often Damien had exploited it to torment him.

And after every hurt, how many times had Henry Prescott favored Damien?

Otherwise, Silas wouldn’t be so obsessive with those who love him now.

Sienna rose up on tiptoe and gently stroked his hair: "They don’t want you—but I do."

At her words, Silas suddenly felt his eyes grow hot.

If Damien hadn’t provoked him today, he’d never have let anyone see his most pathetic side.

He couldn’t help but wrap Sienna tightly in his arms.

His big hand softly rubbed her back, voice hoarse: "Sienna, just now you said the one you love most has always been me. Did you say that just to stand up for me?"

Sienna could sense something was off in his body.

Silas’s arms trembled as he held her, his fingers cold as ice.

She knew what Silas needed most right now was love.

Unconditional love.

Sienna answered without hesitation, shaking her head: "No, I meant every word."

Silas stared at her in disbelief: "If I’m the one you love most, then who’s the person behind that necklace?"