Amber followed Carl to the venue with a stoic demeanor, even though she was drenched in a cold sweat and dragged her feet.

She recalled the pot of roses thrown out by Jameson, and she went through all possible worst-case scenarios.

Jameson had always cherished the red roses. His sudden decision to throw them out and his act of summoning her suggested that he had found out about the tapping device.

When she snapped back to reality, she shut her eyes and inhaled deeply. When she opened her eyes again, they shone with a determined look as if she was ready to face her execution. Death was inevitable anyway. Having mentally braced herself for the worst, she found herself unshaken by fear.

Amber was led to the ghoulish basement, where countless people lost their lives in executions.

A few guards stood in the corners of the basement. Clad in an impeccable grey suit, Jameson lounged on the red velvet couch in the middle of the space. Legs folded, he enjoyed a glass of red wine. His relaxed presence was a stark contrast to the eerie environment.

"Amber, I heard you were in your room for four days. How are you feeling? Better?" Jameson swirled the red wine with an unreadable smile.

Amber bit her lower lip, offering no reply.

He squinted and adjusted his glasses. Then, he beckoned at her. "Amber, come to me."

A nauseous feeling rose within her. However, she had no choice but to walk up to Jameson.

She let out a gasp when Jameson yanked her forward, causing her to fall into his arms.

"Weren't you into sexy clothes in the past? I don't recall ever seeing you wearing such a modest and simple dress." He held her by the waist, forcing her to sit on his lower abdomen. His alcoholic breath brushed against her pale cheeks.

Jameson's overt act of flirting only sickened her. He questioned, "Why? Does Axel prefer this?"

Feeling the chills, she looked away. "No..."

"I like you in modest dresses too. You should start wearing these dresses." He elicited a snarky chuckle as his hand traveled down her back.

She trembled under his touch. His compliment was an affront to her dress. Holding her breath, she rasped, "Mr. Schmidt, why do you want to see me?"

"I'm inviting you to watch a show with me." Smiling, Jameson shot a look at Carl.

Carl got the hint and clapped his hands with a flat expression. Then, they heard a clanking sound, followed by the rattling sounds of metal chains.

Amber watched helplessly as a severely injured man hung from a metal chain and slowly descended. She finally recognized the victim's badly bruised and barely recognizable face when his feet touched the ground. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Her mind went blank at the sight. Tears brimming in her eyes, she found herself grappling with intense fear and unbridled resentment.

The man was no other than Wesley.

One of the bodyguards unchained Wesley. After that, Carl approached Wesley and kicked him over, causing him to sputter a mouthful of blood.

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