Is this where my life ends? A decades-long war... and it ends... tonight?
Two lifetimes—and if that were true, then Nathalie had been in this war longer than she could remember.
People say villains aren’t born, they’re made. That was true.
Nathalie wasn’t always this cruel. She was cruel in her own way, but back then, it was justified.
In the secret society, cruelty was a necessary trait for the aspiring head of a family. Otherwise, other secret families would not only see it as a weakness, but also exploit their resources and power. Everything she had done was necessary.
But because of her father’s betrayal—raising her to be the head of the Zorken Family only to give it away—something snapped in her. And her sisters, who were supposed to be supportive, simply took that order and fought her.
Taking advantage of the brewing turmoil within the Zorken Family, some other families saw their situation as an opportunity to bet on. They supported those they chose as if they were horses in a race.
With all of these combined, how could Nathalie stay down?
How could she not rage when she had seen the true face of the secret society behind its mask of elegance?
They say when one’s at death’s door, life flashes before their eyes. But somehow, nothing was flashing in hers as she watched the bullet spin in her direction. If anything, all that flashed were the sneers, the mockery she had seen and heard, and then silence.
’I cannot... accept this.’
But just as that thought crossed her mind, time ticked normally. Before she could move, Butler Gilbert suddenly appeared before her.
BANG!
Nathalie’s eyes widened, staring at the grimacing butler. He had jumped in front of her, shielding her from the incoming bullet. A searing pain sliced through his flesh, making his entire body tremble.
"Madam," he grimaced, holding onto the metal parts of the chopper to keep himself as her shield.
For a moment, she could only look at him blankly. At the same time, their chopper had already begun ascending.
BANG! BANG!
More shots were fired. Somehow, by the third hit, Butler Gilbert didn’t feel it anymore. The first one hurt like hell, but the second one had numbed him.
Blood flowed down his back like a river, pain gnawing at him from his back to the ends of his nerves. His grip on the metal bar was slightly slipping, but he held on as if his life depended on it.
Slowly, the corners of his mouth curved up as his eyes softened. Regardless of the pain and numbness taking turns every other second, his eyes were filled with nothing but longing.
"Madam," he whispered. "I’m... I’m sorry."
He was sorry he might not be with her to see her claim her ultimate victory. But knowing she would get out of here tonight was enough for him.
Shouts from below rang out as many more opened fire at the ascending chopper. But for Butler Gilbert, he could no longer hear them. All he could focus on was the look on her face and the single tear that rolled down her cheek.
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