Try Begging - Chapter 155.2
Joe’s face twisted uncomfortably. He had received a significant amount of money from Grace last Easter, though he should have no idea it had been her money. Those were better days, chasing after the maid without a clue.
Leon dropped the unnecessary introduction and got to the point.
“She must have visited you between the night of December twenty-third and the early morning of December twenty-fourth last year. What did you two talk about?”
He had predicted that once her brainwashing was undone, she would be vengeful. Yet, on the day of the cleanup, her actions had shown deeper betrayal and outrage than expected.
Leon was convinced that the woman must have figured out something significant in that conversation.
Something he didn’t know about.
“Grace said she had something to ask me. Whether she was really my father’s child…”
Joe’s words hung in the air as Leon listened silently. He felt something important was missing.
“Is that all?”
“No, that’s not all.”
A white smoke came out with a sigh. Leon suppressed his rising anger and warned the man, who seemed too clever not to be rude.
“You don’t seem to know who I am. I’ve spent ten years discerning lies from your comrades, and my experience tells me you’re lying now. Don’t try to fool me.”
Was he truly the woman’s relative, or was he just stubbornly misleading?
“We’re no longer comrades.”
“Right, and the men you’ll share a cell within the detention camp will think the same. You’re not a comrade. You’re a traitor.”
Joe wavered under the threat of being sent to detention camp. The place would be teeming with those who were betrayed by Grace’s actions, and they would surely seek revenge on him and his family.
D*mn it.
Joe kept swallowing the same thought.
‘I should have captured her that day.’
He knew she was up to something. Even though she may have directed her wrath at the perpetrators, which was a relief, he didn’t expect her to enact revenge herself.
Tap. Tap.
As the sound of neatly trimmed fingernails rhythmically tapping on the table started, Joe’s train of thought abruptly stopped.
He stared blankly at Winston, who was silently pressuring him to spill what he’d been hiding. It was perplexing. He thought the objective of avenging his father by cleaning out the base was fulfilled. Then, why did Winston show up demanding more?
“What exactly do you want to know? If it’s about Grace’s whereabouts, I don’t know. I want to find her as much as anyone.”
Winston’s eyes darkened at those words.
“I asked what conversation you had.”
“Why do you need to know that? That’s a personal matter between siblings, nothing to do with the rebels.”
“I told you to cut out the lies.”
Leon snuffed out his cigar on the old table and grabbed the man’s collar.
“Ugh…”
This d*mn rat. If it weren’t for his relationship with that woman, he would have made him talk like the other rats long ago.
Leon yanked his head closer, glaring into his hazel eyes at close range.
“Tell me everything you told that woman.”
Saying so, he threw the still-stubborn man’s collar down and pulled out a new cigar from his case.
“I’ll give you the time it takes to smoke this to think it over. Once it’s done, you and your wife will go to the detention camp, and your kids to the orphanage.”
Jonathan Riddle’s Junior’s face looked severely distressed through the smoky haze. What on earth was he hiding that he had to protect so desperately? He seemed to be choosing who in his family to sacrifice, and only after the cigar was reduced to a stub did he abruptly stand up.
He rummaged through the kitchen cabinet and placed a worn diary in front of Leon. As he flipped open the cover, a name written in a neat hand caught his eye.
“Ah, the infamous vixen’s diary.”
As Joe watched Winston begin to flip through his mother’s diary, he rubbed his face roughly.
D*mn it. D*mn it all. I’m sorry, Mother.
It was an extremely humiliating moment for him and his late mother. This devil would surely enjoy uncovering his mother’s secrets. However, contrary to Joe’s expectations, Winston’s face grew paler as the pages turned.