Turning to the pale-faced Roscoe on the bed, the woman in red lowered her head and murmured, “I'm sorry. Your family wants you gone, and I'm left with no choice."

She shaped her hand like a canopy, and from the box, a white worm emerged, crawling onto her hand. She gently placed her hand over Roscoe's eyes, and within seconds, she removed it to reveal the parasite had vanished.

Miguel expressed his doubt, “Did the parasite truly enter like that?"

The woman in red, head still bowed, explained, “Parasites enter the brain only through the eyes, morphing to match the shape of the eyeball, as thin as paper. Once inside, they mimic nerves, undetectable by X-rays or standard instruments."

Miguel remained skeptical until Roscoe stirred, flexing his fingers before opening his eyes, now clear and alert. He asked, “How did I get here?"

Emerie said, "Sir, today is your wedding day. You were merely resting backstage, but now it's time to return to the ceremony."

Roscoe acknowledged with a simple nod and got out of bed, his demeanor energetic and healthy.

Miguel couldn't contain his delight, acknowledging the mental controlling skills the witchcraft tribe possessed, his invested money worthwhile. With their support, he assumed there was nothing he couldn't conquer.

Emerie trailed behind Roscoe as they made their way to the wedding stage. Though Roscoe seemed fine, he needed close observation, a task only Emerie could manage.

Onstage, the host repeated the crucial question after Doreen was informed of the groom's revival. Roscoe responded robustly, “I do."

Doreen, glowing with happiness, echoed, “I do too."

The host then proclaimed the union official amid the crowd's applause and cheers.

Behind the scenes, Miguel's dark gaze shifted to the butler, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. "Where is that woman?"

The butler announced, "Miss Lawrence is confined to the lounge."

Miguel, coldly stroking his beard, commanded, "Beat her thoroughly, and then throw her out."

Miguel internally cursed Nicole. Were it not for the unique and valuable parasite, he would relish the chance to watch it consume her mind. She was a complete disaster, utterly irritating. Fortunately, rumors suggested her health was failing. This ordeal would ideally see her and Roscoe perish together in their misery.

Miguel departed with a wave of his hand.

Trapped in the lounge, Nicole was left to consider Roscoe's odd demeanor. It was unsettling, not resembling amnesia, but rather as if he had been stripped of his soul, leaving him devoid of any vitality.

What could be happening?

As she pondered, the door burst open. Two menacing bodyguards, clad in black and armed with wooden sticks, entered.