The man who gave him life had wanted to take it back, but he had luckily managed to escape and survive to this date.
He didn’t owe his life to either Nicolas or Simone. But he would pay them back a hundredfold for all the humiliation, lies, and contempt he had suffered from them.
Soon, the bodyguard filed into the room and untied Nicolas.
Nicolas lay on the ground, immobile, his eyes wide open. They would’ve thought he was dead if it wasn’t for his moving chest.
Simone immediately broke free from the bodyguard’s hold and crawled over to him. “Nicolas, answer me! Say something, Nicolas!”
The room was silent, other than their breathing.
After a short pause, the bodyguards continued to carry them both outside.
Ashton’s car was right behind the van transporting Simone and Nicolas. Once he had reached the bustling street, he pulled the car to a stop at an area with a clear, wide-angle of the square.
It was precisely in the middle of lunch hour. People were moving about everywhere. The majority were white-collars and the elites.
The black van stopped at the most crowded square. Over a dozen bodyguards carried Simone and Nicolas down from the van and to the middle of the square. Without any hesitation, they dropped the two onto the ground. Then they spun around and left.
The people at the square stared as the black van sped away, leaving the worn-looking couple in the middle of the square.
It was lunch break, so crowds of white-collars were moving about hastily, hoping to grab a bite at their favorite restaurant. They were used to the beggars filling every corner of the street, so they didn’t even spare them a glance.
Simone kneeled on the ground and begged every passerby for help, “Please help us call an ambulance.”
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