When There Is Nothing Left But Love

As Garrett spoke, he picked up the glass of whiskey on the table and brought it to his mouth, taking a sip. When he lowered his head, he caught a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye. With the wine glass in his hand, he started strolling toward me.

Judging from the wrinkles on his face, he was already in his fifties. But still, he was filled with vigor, his solid muscles rendering him particularly strong. His eyes that were accustomed to carnage and bloodshed were like sharp blades, intent on carving me up.

A second before he stepped right into my personal space, Nathaniel stepped forward and inserted himself between us.

"The matters of the organization have nothing to do with her, Mr. Jensen," Nathaniel remarked.

Garrett swept a gaze over him, the look in his eyes turning deadly in a flash, carrying intense oppression. Despite having someone separating us, a chill inexorably struck me.

However, Nathaniel stood firm against the pressure and budged nary an inch.

That was clearly beyond Garrett's expectation, for scrutiny manifested in his eyes as he stared at the man.

It was as though he suddenly didn't know him anymore.

After a long while, he lifted his hand and patted Nathaniel on the shoulder with a chuckle. "Very well, Nat. You gave me a surprise."

Having said that, he plopped down on the couch with his wine glass in hand. When he had finished the liquor, he placed the glass on the coffee table at the side.

He crossed his legs, propping a hand on the arm of the couch while idly resting the other on his knee. He studied the two of us with interest.

Perhaps I should be saying something at that moment, but Nathaniel had instructed me to keep quiet unless absolutely necessary, so I could only pretend to be mute.

After a brief silence, Nathaniel started, "The fact that she's alive will not change anything. However, I can promise you that the organization's profit will double in the next three years. It's just three years, so you still have that long, Mr. Jensen."

Upon hearing that, Garrett bit his lower lip as a pensive smile lifted the corner of his mouth, seemingly doubting the man's statement greatly. After some time, his expression abruptly turned cold. "Are you negotiating with me?"

"I'm just speaking the truth." Nathaniel lowered his voice.

There was no longer the slightest hint of calmness on Garrett's face, but a darkness that carried brewing fury overtaking his features. In an exceedingly caustic voice, he retorted, "It's your duty to manage the business well, not your bargaining chip to blackmail me! I told you that you couldn't trust anyone in this world except yourself, but you decided to keep this ticking time bomb by your side! You're simply digging your own grave!"

Nathaniel was lectured to the point that he was left with no retort. He merely stood there like a statue without twitching a muscle.

I knew right away that I was the "ticking time bomb" he mentioned. After all, I still had that much self-awareness.

Ramona was wholly right to say that Nathaniel's authority among them might be curtailed because of me.

When there was no forthcoming response from him, Garrett jutted his chin at the man beside him.

The man immediately threw the bodyguards behind me a look. In mere seconds, they had restrained my hands.

Striding over, the man deftly whipped out a gun. With the barrel aimed right at me, he pulled the trigger.

Seeing that, I frantically screwed my eyes shut in preparation for my death. Bang! Bang! Bang! Gunshots rang out in my ears, but no pain assailed me.

I opened my eyes in a daze, only to see Nathaniel standing in front of me. Blood gushed out of his shoulder uncontrollably.

The shocking sight of crimson blood made me waver for a moment. But in the next instant, I hoped that the three bullets would kill him.

Well, you're merely reaping what you sowed. Have you ever thought that this day would come when you hurt my family and friends, Nathaniel Hall?

My focus was so intent on his injury that I only raised my head after a long time had passed. However, my eyes then met with the man's pained expression.

He seemed to have seen right through me, his eyes filled with resentment and grief. Regretfully, I remained stubborn, unwilling to even put on an act.

In the end, his body slowly collapsed onto the ground in a puddle of blood.

Even so, he mulishly looked up at me. The excruciating pain had the veins on his face popping, and his eyes turned bloodshot. On the whole, he appeared horrific and pathetic.

"I took the three bullets for her, so can you please take it as Scarlett Stovall having died, Mr. Jensen?"