"Mr. Laurence, you mother went upstairs, you'd better hide the photo quick." Bryson's face was all panic, urging Bernard.
But Bernard didn't seem the slightest bit concerned, caressing the photo.
She was already dead, there was no need to worry about anything.
If they wouldn't let him die, then he would live a full life.
Let them know what could happen when they kept a devil alive!
The sound of a wheelchair rolling across the floor came closer and closer from the corridor outside the door.
Bryson got even more nervous, not even daring to breathe.
The dim room was suddenly flooded with light as if it was daytime before the group arrived.
The woman in the wheelchair was pushed in by a tall man.
Following them were a group of professional bodyguards, all ex-special forces.
As they entered, Bernard didn't even turn his head, just staring at the person in the photo.
Seeing his lack of reaction when she entered, the woman in the wheelchair looked gloomy, "Bring me whatever's in his hand."
Hearing her order, Bernard replied with a cold smirk.
After putting the photo into the first layer of the safe, he quickly pulled a gun out of the second.
As the man walked up behind him, Bernard cocked the gun, turned off the safety, and aimed it at the man's forehead.
The man was startled by this move but still calmly said, "Bernard, I'm your uncle, pointing a gun at me isn't very appropriate, is it?"
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