NovelOnlineChapter 984
"But, you know, Sir isn't as shameless, as despicable, or as vile as you," she spat out, her words laced with
contempt.
Hans, with his tall and imposing figure, leaned over, casually plucked a rose from the nearby bush, and tore off a
petal to chew on. "Sir would never stoop to such barbaric acts of conquest, like sbeast. Sir would make Ms.
Evadne willingly accept him, bit by bit, fall in love with him."
A shiver ran down Avery's broad shoulders, a chill that wasn't from the cold.
Evadne, however, wasn't as terrified. More than anything, she was curious, suspicious even. She even thought
that being taken by that Sir might be a better fate than being trapped by Avery's side. At least she'd be closer to
the heart of evil, at least she'd have a chance to unveil the true face behind the curtain, to strike at the heart of
it all. But with Avery, she felt powerless. For all his appearance of dignity, glory, and prowess, he was nothing
more than a watchdog raised by that man.
And she had a hunch, a feeling in her bones, that Hans's visit would bring significant upheaval. Even if they
didn't make their move, Avery, who had outlived his usefulness, was on borrowed time.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAs night fell, the ocean waves roared.
Years of living as a hitman had almost robbed Hans of the need for sleep. He lay sprawled on the living room's
red velvet sofa, gazing up at the ornate chandelier on the ceiling, lost in thought. Suddenly, the soft sound of
footsteps approached him. Hans, his ears twitching, made no move to get up, recognizing the steps as those of
Ms. Evadne, who had found herself in a muddy mess earlier, always on the verge of tears.
The footsteps halted beside him, and suddenly, his vision was filled with red—
Evadne leaned in slightly, holding a fresh red apple in front of him. Whether from weakness or semotional
turmoil, her pale, delicate hands trembled slightly.
"For you," Evadne's voice was soft, youthful.
Hans blinked, took the apple, and bit into it crisply.
"Do you like apples, Mr. Hans?" Evadne asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mhm," Hans replied
indifferently.
"I have... | had a brother who loved apples since we were kids."
Evadne gazed deeply at him, her eyes brimming with tears, "In our backyard, we had two apple trees. | used to
climb up and pick apples for Hubery."
Hans remained silent, continuing to eat.
"He was an excellent pilot, with a 99% proficiency rate. But he was missing that 1%."
A flicker of curiosity crossed Hans's face, a rare occurrence:
"And that 1% was?"
"Luck."
Tears poured uncontrollably from Evadne's reddened eyes, streaming down her thin cheeks, "In a plane crash,
his plane plunged into the sea; no one on board, crew or passengers, survived."
Hans paused in his chewing, then resumed as if her words held no relevance to him:
"Then he truly was unlucky. May he be luckier in his next life."
Soft, heart-wrenching sobs filled the quiet living room.
"Ms. Evadne, save your tears for someone who deserves them."
Hans's cold glance fell on the woman sobbing before him, "You should be crying
at your brother's grave. Crying in front ofis just a waste of emotion."
No sooner had he spoken than he felt a chill at his shoulder-
Evadne suddenly threw herself at him, grabbing the collar of his black T-shirt and yanking it fiercely.
With a rip, she tore a long gash in the fabric, her actions fueled by a surge of emotion!
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