Try Begging - Chapter 166.1
At that time, the b*stard was looking up at the cross on the prison wall and praying.
When asked what he prayed for, Wilkins quietly ground his teeth and said he prayed for his son’s eternal rest. He seemed unaware that Leon knew he was the father of the spy Fred and the other truth Grace had revealed.
“Lord, please look after that poor child.”
“I wonder if you pray that for my father, too.”
Only then did he seem to realize why he was there and turned pale.
“It’s a pity. If I had known you were the enemy who killed my father, I wouldn’t have sent Fred off so easily. At the very least, I would have made sure he died in front of you.”
Only then did he seem to anticipate that he would die more painfully than his son and started to beg.
“I’m truly sorry for what happened to Major Richard Winston. It wasn’t supposed to be that way.”
“It’s unpleasant to see you think an apology will suffice.”
“It’s not like that…”
“A life for a life.”
At these words, he began to tremble.
“You, you’ve already paid with Fred’s life…”
“Oh, you’re saying you repaid with your child’s life instead of yours? How amusing… Fred, did you hear what your father just said?”
Leon mocked Fred in hell as he spoke, looking at the prison floor.
“Fine. If you want to save your life with your child’s, then so be it.”
Watching the spark of hope in his eyes extinguish was one of Leon’s favorite pastimes.
“You won’t die immediately. I’ll bring your children one by one and kill them in front of you before letting you go, light-hearted and free of all resentment. Come to think of it, you have quite a few children, including the runaway Nancy. In other words, I’ll keep you alive until I’ve caught and killed that woman. You must feel quite accomplished to be alive because of your children.”
And Leon kept that promise faithfully until today.
“Angie! She’s an accomplice as well!”
One day, as he wailed in despair before his dying child, he angrily shouted,
“Kill Angela Riddle’s brats, too, if you’re going to kill anyone!”
“That’s absolutely out of the question.”
Because that also would mean killing his own child. Somewhere, his child was surely still alive.
Leon shut his eyes tightly.
“Major?”
How long had he had his eyes closed? At the sound of his name, he opened his eyes to see faces staring at him in confusion.
“We’re ready to carry out the execution.”
Even with everything prepared, he hadn’t given the order yet. A soldier, noticing the delay, informed him once more. Only then did Leon release his grip on Wilkins’s head and move behind the soldier, aiming the rifle.
“Aim.”
The condemned man, already sobbing, began to wail again at the command. While Leon had shown some mercy by blindfolding the other prisoners, he considered it a luxury for those who had treated his woman like a pig.
The soldier, following the earlier instructions, aimed away from the fatal spots.
“Fire.”
At the moment Leon issued the command, the executioner’s cries mixed with the gunfire, reverberating across the execution ground.
“Grace Riddle, that filthy wh*re!”
The smile vanished from Leon’s face in an instant.
Under the blazing midsummer sun, everything turned cold, and still, the echoes of gunfire and screams gradually faded away into complete silence.
After that, only suffocating silence remained.
Leon, who had been clenching his teeth with his eyes shut, chuckled softly and opened his eyes. As he waved his hand lightly at the soldier waiting for further orders, the soldier lowered his rifle and stepped aside.
Step, step.
The sound of dry earth being trampled echoed slowly across the execution ground. The man, who had been sobbing from the indescribable pain spreading from his thigh throughout his body, opened his eyes when he sensed someone approaching.
At that moment, he regretted not being dead yet.
“Huock!”
The thick end of the whip dug into his wound. The Camden vampire bared his white teeth as he growled at him.
“What did you say?”
“Huugh!”
The man, writhing in extreme pain, rolled his eyes till it showed the whites and gasped for breath.
“I asked who did you just called a wh*re?”
Winston gripped the man’s chin with his gloved hand and forced him to meet his gaze, each word deliberately enunciated.
“Grace is a saint.”
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