Amber heard Jameson clearly but felt torn between her mind and body. She couldn't utter a response.

"Go. Now," Jameson urged, his gaze turning icy.

A shiver wracked Amber as she rose, her dress clinging uncomfortably to her cold sweat. She was alive, but she felt as if she had died over and over again.

She walked toward Wesley; a few steps felt like a lifetime.

Wesley's hands were bound, so he used his head to prop himself up. He swayed as he kneeled before her.

He had known he would die the moment he was captured. However, he wasn't resigned to a meaningless death; he wanted to die with dignity.

Carl approached and took Amber's cold hand, placing a gun in it and forcing her fingers to grip the handle. Despite the blood covering his face, Wesley offered her a wan smile, a gesture meant to comfort Amber.

Tears welled in Amber's eyes as she squeezed them shut. The dank basement was a slaughterhouse.

She opened her eyes again.

No one else would have noticed, but Amber saw his right eye blinking in a

understanding shot through Amber-Wesley was sending her

matching the

act fast. Don't keep Mr. Schmidt waiting." Carl

heavily, on the verge

on Amber, Wesley suddenly got up from the ground and pushed Amber aside with all

an angered lion. Wesley acted so fast that none of Jameson's underlings could react in time. However, these underlings were professionally trained. They shouldn't have been this slow to react-including Carl. They had been careless! They never expected someone so

he fiercely

Schmidt!" Everyone panicked and was unsure what to

was outraged. He shouted as he aimed his gun at Wesley's back and

in anymore. Tears streamed

The basement fell silent.

who was on Jameson, eventually slumped

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