"You don't know yet, Casiano has a brain disease, an intracranial tumor—" Gordon Collins' words, accompanied by the blood trickling from his forehead, splashed onto Alla's pallid brow, blooming like a sinister flower. She didn't even blink, staring at him lifelessly as if she were a puppet, completely silent and still.
"You tell me, can he live after suffering multiple blows to the head while having a disease?" Gordon Collins' voice, indifferent to the life and death of others, hammered in her ears with brutal cruelty.
Alla clenched the bedsheets, a chill creeping from head to toe, enveloping her heart and making her uncontrollably cold. "I won't believe a word you say..."
He had told her it was just a headache; how could it be a tumor? It had to be Gordon Collins lying to her. "Don't believe it?" Gordon sneered with a lift of his eyebrow. "Why don't you check where the vast wealth under your name came from?"
