Knocked Down

As Salvatore and his bruised thugs finally hobble out of the ruined house, leaving behind an echoing silence, Julian drops down to his knees. He meticulously gathers the scattered, tarnished coins and the torn, crumpled notes from the dusty floorboards. He handles the meager funds with intense care, knowing exactly how much blood and sweat it took to save them. Standing back up, he gently returns the small, worn pouch into his mother's trembling hands.

"Mom, are you all right?" Julian asks softly, his voice thick with concern. "Those bastards are gone now."

Anna sighs heavily, her sightless eyes fixed on the floor. "Why did you have to come out and provoke him, Julian? That money is what we have painstakingly saved all this while."

"Don't worry about them anymore," Julian says, looking deeply into her unseeing eyes. He makes a solemn, unbreakable vow right then and there. "From this day forward, I will be the sole breadwinner for this family. You and Dad are going to rest. Furthermore, I swear to you with absolute certainty that I will definitely find a way to treat your eyes and restore your vision."

Hearing his steadfast promise, Anna breaks down. She weeps openly, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Her voice cracks as the emotional dam bursts. "I'm so glad to hear you say that. Now that you're back home, my mind is finally put at ease. If it wasn't because I was so overwhelmingly worried about your safety in that terrible prison, I would have been dead long ago. That worry was the only thing keeping me alive through the endless days of suffering."

Witnessing the profound, agonizing depth of her trauma strikes Julian like a physical blow. His eyes sting, and a burning, uncontrollable rage erupts like a dormant volcano from deep within his chest. The sheer magnitude of their suffering over the past three years consumes him. Unable to hold back the violent physical manifestation of his fury, he clenches his fist and forcefully slams it down onto the nearby wooden table.

*Crack!*

The solid wood structure shatters instantly, exploding into countless jagged, splintered pieces under his terrifying, inhuman strength. Dust and wood chips rain down onto the floor. In the ringing silence that follows the destruction, Julian makes a silent, blood-soaked vow in his mind. *The Morellos. The Rossis. I will definitely make every single one of you pay dearly for what you have done.*

Sensing the sudden, violent shift in the room's atmosphere, Anna frantically reaches out, her hands grasping empty air. "Julian, please don't cause any more trouble! Now that you're back, you should just find a proper, quiet job. Everything will work out and be fine if you just keep your head down."

"Mom, don't worry. I know exactly what to do," Julian replies, deliberately softening his tone to comfort her. "Anyway, I'm heading out for a bit."

He steps out of the shattered doorway of the house, his heart entirely set on confronting Sasha directly. He needs to demand the absolute truth behind her treacherous betrayal.

His mind heavily enveloped in a blinding tempest of anger, Julian stalks down the sidewalk. His thoughts are completely consumed by visions of revenge, making him careless. He steps recklessly onto the main road without even glancing at the oncoming traffic.

Tires squeal violently against the asphalt. In a split second, a speeding, vibrant red Porsche barrels down the lane and strikes him incredibly hard. The brutal, metallic impact launches Julian flying through the air like a ragdoll. He slams heavily against the unforgiving street with a sickening thud, his body aggressively scraping against the hot pavement. Any normal pedestrian would have been instantly killed or severely mangled by the lethal collision. Yet, Julian survives entirely unscathed. He simply sits up, a miraculous feat solely attributed to the rigorous, body-tempering physical training he endured under Silvio Vesper's brutal tutelage in prison.

"Who the hell drives like a maniac?" Julian snarls, his previous anger skyrocketing. Being violently run down the very moment he leaves his home is the absolute last straw.

Before he can even fully recover his bearings and stand up, a shrill, furious female voice pierces the air. "Why don't you fucking look where you're walking?"

A strikingly beautiful woman steps out of the Porsche's driver's seat. She is dressed in an elegant white designer dress and towering killer heels that click ominously against the road. Instead of checking on the well-being of the man she just hit, Jolene shrieks at him with venomous fury, her eyes blazing with entitlement.

Infuriated by her blatant, unapologetic arrogance, Julian remains seated on the hot asphalt. He scoffs and coldly retorts, "Which one of us do you think is truly blind? Obviously, you were the one who was speeding and knocked into me. I have to ask, why does someone with such a pretty face possess such a foul, abrasive mouth?"

"How dare you scold me!" Jolene glares fiercely at him. Her face twists in ugly rage. She aggressively raises her stiletto leg, visibly aiming to plunge the razor-sharp heel directly into his prone body to teach him a bloody lesson. Given the sharp angle of the shoe, it would act like a dagger driving straight into his flesh.

"Jolene, stop!"

Just at that critical moment, the backdoor of the sports car swings open. A middle-aged man stumbles weakly out of the backseat. He radiates an aura of immense authority, but right now, his face is deathly pale. He is gasping desperately, his chest heaving violently as he fights for every single sliver of air. He leans heavily against the car frame, barely able to support his own weight.

"Dad, why did you come down?" When Jolene sees her father's agonizing state, she instantly abandons her assault and rushes over to physically support him.

"Let's hurry to the hospital... stop wasting any more time," the older man orders weakly, urgently pleading with her to drive.

Disgusted by the delay but deeply anxious for her father's life, Jolene turns back toward Julian. She carelessly pulls out a thick stack of hundred-dollar bills from her purse and casually tosses the ten thousand dollars directly at Julian. "Here's ten thousand. Take the hush money and leave! We have an urgent, life-threatening matter to attend to."

Instead of taking the cash, Julian casually stands up, completely ignoring the crisp bills fluttering around his shoes. He dusts himself off and casts a sharp, highly analytical glance at the gasping older man. With total, chilling calm, Julian states, "There is absolutely no need to rush to the hospital because it is already far too late."

Having delivered his grim verdict, he turns his back to leave.

"Stop right there!" Jolene immediately blocks his path, her eyes blazing with fresh fury as she glowers at him. "What the hell do you mean by that? Give me a proper explanation for cursing my father, or I swear I won't let you walk away from this street!"

The middle-aged man approaches Julian with a pained frown, still clutching his chest.

Julian meets the woman's ferocious glare without flinching. He calmly and clinically details the reality of the situation. "Your father's dire condition is the direct result of an old, severe hidden injury specifically localized in his left lung. In less than five minutes, he will suffer from catastrophic breathing difficulties and suffocate to death right here on the concrete. Can you honestly make it to the emergency room in five minutes?"

"You're bluffing!" Jolene furiously accuses him. "You're just trying to scam us! My dad only has a severe flu—"

"Jolene, enough!" the older man abruptly interrupts her loud tirade, snapping at his daughter before staggering another two steps toward Julian. His pale face suddenly washes with profound, undeniable astonishment. Gasping heavily, he asks, "Young man... how could you possibly know that my left lung suffered a hidden injury years ago?"

Feigning total indifference to the billionaire's shock, Julian shrugs. "You wouldn't understand the medical principles even if I told you. Anyway, I am far too busy dealing with my own pressing matters to waste time on you two."

He turns around once more, prepared to walk away.

Panic instantly sets in. The older man breaks into a violent, agonizing coughing fit that shakes his entire frame. Desperate for his life, he lunges forward and forcefully grabs Julian's arm. "Young man, please!" he pleads frantically. "Since you can diagnose my sickness with a mere glance, I am absolutely sure you can treat it. I beg you to save my life! I am happy to pay any astronomical price you want. Here, take my card!"

He thrusts an expensive, gilded business card straight into Julian's palm.

Julian initially has absolutely no intention of getting involved in a wealthy man's problems. However, his sharp eyes catch the deeply printed name on the expensive card. He looks up, thoroughly verifying the identity of the gasping man clutching his sleeve. "You're William Sterling. The incredibly influential CEO of Sterling Holdings."

"Yes, I am," William confirms, nodding weakly as his lips turn blue.

In a sudden, explosive blur of motion that completely defies human sight, Julian extends his right hand. He violently stabs his stiffened fingers directly into William's major upper-body acupoints. He moves with such overwhelming, blinding speed that neither the fiercely protective daughter nor the dying father has even a fraction of a second to process or react to the strike.