The Imposter Bride (Natalia and Magnus)
Chapter 408

Hector watched with a bloodthirsty smirk as the desperate outlaws slowly closed in around him. What were these fools thinking? Without another word to Jackson, he strode away. The sounds of unsheathing knives filled the air from all directions.

Hector's eyes darkened as he heard footsteps and the whoosh of a knife slicing through the air behind him. With a swift dodge and turn, he faced a dozen men charging at him with knives drawn. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he reopened them with ferocity, lashing out with a kick that sent his would-be assailant flying through the air before crashing down onto the sand.

The others swarmed him, but Hector, with his bare hands, knocked them down one by one. Their knives did not even graze a hair on his body.

Jackson's hands trembled as he shouted, "Take him down! A hefty reward for the man who does!"

The thugs on the ground picked themselves up and lunged at Hector again, knives poised to strike. Any last shred of mercy in Hector was extinguished. His eyes blazed with murderous intent. He squatted, picked up a knife, and as the men closed in, he swung it with his eyes shut.

The man before him was cleaved in two.

Wielding the bloody knife, it took Hector less than ten minutes to finish them all. With dark eyes shimmering with the lust for destruction, he walked towards Jackson step by step.

"I would have spared you, but you insisted on courting death!"

Jackson stepped back. "What do you want? Hector, don't be rash. You've killed all my men! Do you intend to kill me too?"

Holding the bloodied knife, Hector advanced. "I didn't want to kill them; you sent them to their deaths!"

At that moment, Helen burst out, screaming at the top of her lungs, "John, you're insane! Don't kill my daddy; we saved your life! You can't kill us!"

Hector paused at her plea, letting go of the knife, which clattered to the ground. After one last look at Helen, he turned and walked away.

Helen picked up the knife and lunged at Hector's back, but without turning, he kicked the knife from her grasp. Staring at her with a predatory gaze, he said, "I thought you were the voice I knew, but you're not. I'll spare your lives in exchange for the one you saved. Cross me again, and you die."

Like a demon of the dark, he gave Helen one last look and disappeared into the night.

As Hector's figure receded into the distance, Jackson and his daughter clung to each other, shaken.

Hector left the island littered with corpses, his future uncertain. He drove a yacht from the island, aimlessly drifting at sea, stopping at ports to rest, seeking something to soothe his soul. But after days at sea, he found no place he belonged.

Until he arrived in Hawaii, the vibrant and fiery island.

Stepping ashore, the air felt familiar, as if he was here long ago, he had lived here. Breathing in the island's breeze, Hector settled in Hawaii.

With no memories, no identification, and no money, he lived a ghostly existence, hiding by day on the yacht and wandering the empty streets by night. Convinced of a connection to this place, he searched the streets, even in torrential rain.

Drawn to a three-story house bathed in the downpour, its light shining like a bright moon, he felt a moment's peace amid the storm.

As the rain intensified, the warmth inside contrasted with Hector's solitary figure outside as he stared at the dim glow. He watched intently and saw silhouettes entangled in passion, sparking an inexplicable pain and rage in him.

Despite his amnesia, he recognized the significance of their actions but couldn't understand why such ordinary intimacy evoked such emotions. Did he have a history with this family?

Thunder roared, cleaving the sky, and Hector's expression cleared as he approached the house. He simply had to show up and ask, right?

With this thought, Hector walked briskly to the house, reaching for the gate, only to replace it unlocked.

Hesitating in the rain, he stepped inside the courtyard. The gate creaked open, and Hector walked forward. The house's steps were just ahead.

But before he could ascend, lights flared behind him, followed by deafening shouts, "Freeze! Hands up!"

"Don't move, or we'll shoot!"

Hector stopped, slowly turning to face his pursuers.

Armed police officers stood in line, guns aimed at him, continuing to shout, "We suspect you're involved in recent homicides. Place your hands on your head and step out slowly! You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law!"

The relentless rain couldn't drown out the blaring commands, which reached Natalia upstairs just as she lay down. Startled, she nudged Magnus, "What's that noise? Why are there cops outside?" Magnus frowned, got out of bed, and opened the window, shocked to see their front yard swarming with officers. "What's going on? Why are the police here at this hour?"

Realizing it was indeed the police, Natalia also rose and joined Magnus at the window. She looked down and froze as if struck by lightning.

Outside, the relentless rain painted the world in streaks of silver, and through the watery veil, a figure struggled against the blinding glare of a police spotlight. Even with the harsh light forcing his eyes into a squint, there was no mistaking the man for anyone else. "Hector!" Natalia's voice pierced the night, slicing through the downpour with a sharpness that demanded attention.

Her cry didn't go unnoticed. The officers below, who had been in a tense standoff with Hector, momentarily forgot their postures of authority and turned their gaze upward, towards the source of the unexpected interruption.

At that moment, Natalia's excitement washed away all sense of decorum. She stretched onto the tips of her toes, waving frantically in Hector's direction. "Oh my God! Hector, have you really come back?!" Her voice was a cocktail of joy and disbelief, each word a lifeline thrown across the distance between them.