The bedroom was quiet, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. Eva sat on the bed, her gaze fixed on Andrew, whose shoulders were tense as he stood before her. 

His voice was gentle but tinged with insecurity. "Do you wish to go? I'll follow your wishes," he said, his hand reaching out to caress her face. 

Tilting her chin upward, he looked deep into her eyes, searching for the truth. "Do you want to go with your parents?"

Eva’s heart ached at the hurt in his tone. She knew his question wasn’t just about her decision, but the fragility of their bond. She brushed her fingers through his hair, offering a reassuring smile. 

“Yes, but not for long. I’ll come back to you,” she said softly, her words filled with sincerity. “I promise.”

Andrew pulled her into a tight embrace, his heart aching at the thought of her absence but soothed by her reassurance. “I’ll miss you,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

“I’ll miss you too,” Eva replied, holding him close. For a moment, time seemed to pause, their love silent yet palpable. When they finally pulled apart, Andrew placed a tender kiss on her lips and smiled. “Let me drop you off tomorrow,” he said.

“Okay,” Eva agreed, her heart warm as she followed him downstairs. Andrew informed Asher that Eva would stay with him for the night and that he would personally drop her off at the Foster mansion the following day. Asher nodded and departed with Nora, leaving the couple alone once more.

The journey back to the Foster mansion was filled with tension as Asher’s resolve hardened. “Tristan,” he said sternly, “Take me to where Camilla is being held. I need to see her.”

Nora placed a calming hand on his arm. “Asher, let it go. It’s over.”

“No, it’s not,” Asher replied, his tone resolute. “Not until I’ve faced her.” Tristan silently nodded, understanding his father’s need for closure.

At the base, Asher stormed through the halls, his fury barely contained. When they reached Camilla’s cell, he stopped and stared through the bars, his lips curling in disgust. Her frail figure slumped against the wall, bloodied and broken.

“She hasn’t changed much,” Asher muttered, venom dripping from his words. “I can’t wait to meet her properly.”

Selene greeted them, her demeanor calm and professional. “She’s been begging for her life,” she informed them. “But no new information.”

“Then let’s see how she handles a proper reunion,” Asher said, his tone chilling.

Tristan led the way into the room, his presence radiating authority. “Hello, Camilla Foster,” he cooed. “Happy to see me again?”

Camilla weakly raised her head, her face a pale shadow of the woman she once was. “Please save me,” she rasped. “I was wrong. I apologize.”

“Save you?” Tristan laughed coldly. “You killed my parents, and you think I’d save you?”

“I’m sorry,” Camilla whimpered.

Before Tristan could respond, two figures entered the room. Camilla’s eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of Asher and Nora. “How is this possible?” she stammered, her voice trembling. “They were dead. I killed them.”

“You thought you did,” Nora said with a mocking smile. “Lovely to see you again, old friend.”

Asher stepped forward, his presence dominating the room. “It’s not an illusion, Camilla. We’re here, and you’re going to pay for what you’ve done.” His hand shot out, grabbing one of her wounded hands and digging his nails into the raw flesh.

Camilla screamed, her voice echoing through the cell. “Please, no!” she begged, tears streaming down her face.

Asher’s smirk was devoid of mercy. “Does it hurt? Good. It’s nothing compared to the pain you caused my family.” He turned to Darren. “Bring me a bucket of ice.”

Darren quickly obeyed, returning with a bucket. Asher took a handful of ice and pressed it against Camilla’s wounds. Her screams became guttural, raw with agony.

“Did you know ice burns when pressed against an open wound?” Asher asked, his tone conversational as if discussing the weather. “Let’s see how long you can last.”

Tristan stepped forward, taking Nora out of the room as Asher’s torture intensified. “This isn’t for the faint of heart,” he said softly, his expression unreadable.

Left alone with Camilla, Asher’s wrath knew no bounds. He wielded a knife with precision, slicing away bits of her skin. “You destroyed my family,” he growled. “This is only a fraction of what you deserve.”

Camilla’s cries grew weaker, her body unable to withstand the torment. Asher ordered Darren to fill a tub with ice water. When it was ready, he grabbed a fistful of Camilla’s hair and dragged her toward the tub. “Look at me,” he commanded. “My face is the last thing you’ll see before you die.”

With a final scream, Camilla was plunged into the icy water. The cold consumed her, and moments later, her body went limp. Asher stood over her lifeless form, his expression grim but satisfied.

Outside the room, Nora and Tristan waited anxiously. When Asher finally emerged, his face was pale but resolute. He looked at his wife and son, the weight of the past slowly lifting from his shoulders.

“Let’s go home,” he said quietly, wrapping his arm around Nora. “It’s over.”

As they walked away from the base, Asher felt a strange sense of peace for the first time in over a decade. The ghost of Camilla Foster no longer haunted their lives. The future, though uncertain, was finally theirs to claim.