Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 424

Grace sat on the sofa, instinctively flinching as an alcohol swab touched the scrape on her arm.

“Don’t move.”

Damien knelt before her, tending to her wound.

His touch was gentle, but his tone was sharp. “You were so brave on stage, stabbing people with a pen. Now you feel the pain, huh?”

“That was an adrenaline rush, Mr. Clarke. I didn’t feel a thing,” Grace said with a pale smile, reaching out to poke the tense space between his eyebrows. “Stop frowning. You look like a little old man.”

“Think I’m old?” Damien caught her finger and brought it to his lips, nibbling it gently. “Grace, you’re stuck with me. Even when I’m old and grey, I’ll still be the only man dancing with you—even if you have to wheel me onto the floor.”

The atmosphere lightened slightly.

Just then, Felix pushed the door open, his expression grave. “Mr. Clarke. Ma’am. Dorian Hart’s last known coordinates were at the docks. All we found was a wrecked sedan and… a pool of blood.”

The smile vanished from Grace’s face.

“Where would they take him?” Grace’s voice trembled.

Damien stood up, his eyes filled with a cold light. “As long as they don’t have the key, Dorian won’t die. Not yet.”

***

In an abandoned underground air-raid shelter somewhere in Jarrow City.

“Aaaargh!”

A shrill scream pierced the silence.

Dorian was hanging from a rusty iron frame, his shirt torn to shreds and stuck to his body with a mixture of blood and sweat. Tears and sweat stung his eyes as he shook with agonizing pain.

“I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Just stop hitting me!”

Standing before him was a man in a half silver mask—The Shepherd’s agent, codenamed “Butcher.”

Butcher toyed with a delicate scalpel in his right hand, using the tip to lift Dorian’s chin. “Can’t take it already?” he clicked his tongue. “Dorian Hart, I thought you’d be tougher. We’ve only pulled one fingernail.”

Dorian trembled all over, unable to even look at the bloody mess of his left index finger.

“I’m just a coder… I can’t take a beating, Cassian!” Dorian wailed. “You can have whatever you want! Just please, don’t ruin my hands, I’m begging you!”

Butcher sneered, his eyes filled with contempt.

Just as he thought. Apart from Grace, the Harts were all spineless cowards.

“Should have been this cooperative from the start,” Butcher said, tossing him a satellite phone. “Call your sister. You know what to say.”

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