Struggling in his seat, Albert tugged aggressively at the bindings tying him down as he wanted to beat the man in front of him. “How dare you show your face to me! I will kill you… You asshole!” If they did not tie him to his seat, Albert would have beaten Andrew to a pulp.
Andrew Morgan laughed mockingly at his futile attempts to get free. “Do you think you could really kill me?” He looked at Albert with brows raised. “If I were you, I’d pray to all the Gods to save me… Instead of thinking ill about me.”
Albert glared at him, “Where are Beatrice and Athena?! Bring them back to me, you bastard!” He yelled.
“Oh, I forgot to send a funeral invitation years ago. Beatrice is dead. And you can’t raise a deceased person.”
“What?” Albert asked in disbelief. ‘My Beatrice is dead?’ Tears poured down his cheeks as Andrew continued talking.
