Try Begging - Chapter 158.2
“I was too harsh on you, I hated you, it was all too much and I won’t do it again. I forgive what you did to me. I want to clear the past and start over with you. Please, just give me one more chance.”
Grace absentmindedly tapped the newspaper with her pencil and then turned her gaze back to the ads after a while.
“…Don’t make me laugh.”
As if she’d fall for that.
It was easy for apologies to slip from the mouth of such an arrogant person. It felt dismissive. It was not an apology borne out of genuine remorse but manipulation.
Despicable b*stard. Just wait and see.
Grace clenched her teeth as she looked down at her noticeably bulging belly.
‘In ten weeks, I’ll erase every trace of you from my life.’
After sifting through three more newspapers, she finally found a suitable apartment.
‘I’ll call about it tomorrow.’
As Grace cut out the rental advertisement with a military utility knife, she groaned at the price.
‘Not with the cash I have now.’
Soon, her gaze shifted to the handbag on the dresser.
‘I’ll need to sell a few gold bars.’
Jimmy watched the devil with trembling eyes.
Sitting just two steps apart without a table felt like being thrown naked in front of a wild beast. Even if there were a table, he knew well enough that it wouldn’t shield him from the devil’s crazed violence.
The tattoo labeled ‘Death Row’ still vividly inked on his arm was proof of that.
He wasn’t sure exactly how long it had been since he was transferred from the north to a new detention facility in the west, but it seemed to be over a month.
He had expected to be sent to a detention camp, where his comrades were mostly held, but the leadership had moved him to a temporary facility near Winsford. It seemed they wanted to keep him close to headquarters for ongoing interrogation.
However, contrary to such assumptions, no one had come for him for a long time.
Just when he was nearly going mad in solitary confinement, Winston showed up. His arrival was anything but welcome.
Why did he come all of a sudden?
The only thing not unexpected was the nature of his questions.
“Explain in detail how that woman ended up under my command as an infiltrator.”
It was another question about Grace, but unexpectedly, the questions weren’t about her whereabouts. As Jimmy detailed how Grace was made to infiltrate as a maid under Winston, his face grew increasingly stern.
“Ah, now that I think about it, she mentioned she had encountered you when she was young.”
Winston abruptly drew his own conclusions.
“So, she never volunteered to infiltrate. You coerced her.”
Jimmy’s brow furrowed.
Coerced? He hadn’t coerced anyone against their will. Though he might have persuaded her somewhat, ultimately, it was Grace who chose to infiltrate.
“It wasn’t coercion; it was persuasion.”
“Persuasion?”
Winston sneered as he fell into thought. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his chin in his interlocked hands.
“I can imagine how you persuaded her. Stirring up her mind, practically brainwashing her. Mr. Blanchard, in a classroom, that’s what they’d define as coercion.”
Winston then relentlessly delved into the circumstances under which he had ordered the seduction and how Grace had reacted at that time.
“She was right after all…”
Muttering to himself, Winston’s expression suddenly darkened.
Why such an enraged face?
Jimmy replayed his own words but couldn’t discern what had provoked him. How had Grace managed to survive under such an unpredictable devil?
D*mn it.
The story was obvious just by looking at her belly. He was shaking his head to rid himself of the last glimpses of Grace that haunted him.
Scrape.
The sound of a chair moving. He looked up to see Winston standing up and turning towards the door.
Was this the end? The relief made Jimmy momentarily forget. The devil’s actions and thoughts were unpredictable.
Winston suddenly stopped as he headed for the door.
“Ah, right. I brought a gift and almost forgot.”
Quickly, he opened his holster, drew his gun, and pulled back the slide.
Bang.
“Uwack!”
Without a chance to react, an excruciating pain shot through his foot. As Jimmy screamed and bled, Winston looked down on him with disdain and remarked as he walked out.
“This gift isn’t from me. It’s from Joe.”
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