Wendy’s hands clenched into fists.
She hadn't had a chance to say a single word since they’d barged in.
But when she heard Baron threaten her friends, the rage that had been building inside her finally exploded.
She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face.
Before Baron could even react, she slapped him again.
The two slaps were crisp and loud, leaving Baron completely stunned.
“Are you crazy? How dare you hit my son!”
Seeing Wendy strike her son, Mrs. Clifford let out a furious roar and lunged forward like a madwoman. She grabbed a fistful of Wendy’s hair and began clawing and hitting her face.
Baron, snapping out of his daze, joined the fray in a fit of humiliation and rage. The two of them surrounded Wendy, beating and cursing her.
In the midst of the chaos, Mr. Clifford, who had been standing silently in the corner, suddenly let out a furious roar.
He emerged from the kitchen wielding a gleaming kitchen cleaver.
Mr. Clifford raised the cleaver and brought it down directly on Baron.
Baron’s attention was entirely focused on attacking Wendy. He never imagined that his doting father would turn the blade on him.
The first strike landed on Baron’s arm.
Then his leg, his abdomen, his chest…
He was stabbed a total of eight times, until his body collapsed to the floor.
Wendy stared at her father in horror and managed to cry out, “Dad!”
But Mr. Clifford didn't stop. He raised the cleaver again and swung at Mrs. Clifford.
Mrs. Clifford was used to being the dominant one at home. For years, she had been the one to call the shots. Mr. Clifford was a man of few words, and she made all the major and minor decisions.
Before Mrs. Clifford could finish her sentence, a spray of warm blood splattered across her face.
She grabbed her husband’s knife-wielding wrist and fought frantically.
Mr. Clifford stabbed her again. Staring at the gushing wound in her abdomen, he suddenly burst into laughter.
“Hahaha, you deserve to die! All of you! You’re the one who spoiled Baron, who ruined a perfectly good family! I’m taking you all to hell with me!”
Wendy was completely frozen in terror. Seeing such a bloody scene firsthand—no matter how much she hated her parents, she had never wished them dead.
When she finally snapped out of it, she shakily reached for her phone to call the police.
Just then, Mr. Clifford’s cleaver swung toward his wife again.
Mrs. Clifford had already been stabbed twice, but she was still conscious and mobile. Faced with her murderously enraged husband, she was now truly terrified. The fear of death and the searing pain from her wounds plunged the lifelong tyrant into a state of panic.
As she saw the blade coming for her face, in a moment of desperation, she grabbed Wendy, who was dialing her phone beside her, and pulled her in front as a human shield.

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