He'd almost forgotten the past.
It's just that occasionally, in the middle of the night, those long-healed wounds would quietly ache, but there wasn't a ripple in his heart.
He never took those people seriously.
Jimmy Simmons had been wrong all along; it was not for revenge that he held the Simmons Clan in his grasp, it was merely out of pure curiosity.
Curious whether a person with two faces could still remain aloof and superior after losing everything.
Old Sir Simmons was right; he was not of his kind.
He was inherently evil; he enjoyed watching those people lose everything they had, struggling desperately in the mud, gradually revealing their true nature.
In this life, all the tender affection and love he now had, were given to him by his girl, existing solely because of her.
The quiet room filled with the soft voice of a girl and the indulgent words of a man.
"Arnold, did anyone discover you came here today?"
"No."
