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.

left eye was swollen and bloodshot; he could only see through his right eye. No one else would have noticed, but

shot through Amber-Wesley

fingertips against her side, matching the rhythm of Wesley's blinks, committing his

keep Mr. Schmidt waiting." Carl looked at her

her arm and aimed the gun at Wesley. She panted heavily, on the verge of tears, unable to pull the trigger.

suddenly got up from the ground and pushed Amber aside with all his strength. Amber staggered backward, but

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

eyes were bloodshot as he fiercely bit Jameson's

panicked and was unsure what to

outraged. He shouted as he aimed his

in anymore. Tears streamed down

The basement fell silent.

Jameson, eventually slumped and fell

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