Arthur Sterling was stunned. When he regained his senses and looked again, he saw Mr. Sterling looking at Master Kaelen with a fawning expression.
“Worry–Free Master, please save me. With such a vast empire and so much life left to live, I’m not ready to die.”
But it was too late. Master Kaelen’s mind was still replaying the scene of the Blackwood family surrounding me. He spoke bluntly.
“Your family’s direct lineage has dozens of lives on their hands. All your wealth is ill–gotten gains. You’ve lived more than long enough as it is.”
He then gave Arthur Sterling a meaningful look and led me away.
Arthur Sterling’s heart sank at the look, and then his eyes met Mr. Sterling’s.
“Arthur Sterling, you’ve been doing that business behind my back again, haven’t you?”
His tone was calm, but it filled Arthur Sterling with an immense sense of dread.
What son isn’t afraid of his father?
Even if he engaged in human trafficking, ran assassins, and engaged in various illicit underground dealings outside,
he had always feared Mr. Sterling at home.
“Dad, I…”
“You don’t need to say anything more.”
Before he could finish, Mr. Sterling rose and returned to his bedroom on the second floor.
Leaving Arthur Sterling only with his stooped, aged back.
8
After that day, Mr. Sterling quickly passed away.
And without constraint, Arthur Sterling’s dark dealings grew larger and larger.
I hadn’t heard anything about Damon Blackwood since that day.
Until a year later, when the police came knocking.
“Are you saying Damon Blackwood has taken hostages and specifically demanded to see me?”
I stared at the two police officers before me, asking in surprise.
Their affirmative gazes and serious expressions answered me.
12:53 AM P P
<
“Miss Reed, the situation is critical. We need you to come with us.”
Even though I was extremely reluctant, since lives were at stake, I followed the police to see him.
Master Kaelen, worried about me, came along too.
But I never imagined that,
the
on the wind–swept rooftop, where a chilling gale howled, Damon Blackwood stood with an assassin, holding Seraphina Thorne hostage.
And on the ground nearby, in a pool of blood, lay Milo Bellwether’s corpse.
Skinned and dismembered beyond recognition; if it weren’t for his head, I wouldn’t have even recognized him.
Turns out, after that day, Damon Blackwood had used his father’s connections to relentlessly pursue them both.
“Damon Blackwood.”
“My Anya, you finally came!”
Hearing my voice, Damon grew agitated, and the knife in his hand inadvertently cut into Seraphina’s delicate skin, leaving
several marks.
