Such a lovely, elflike girl, the Duchess couldn't bear it... she couldn't bear to take away a father from such a child.
Her hand trembled violently, almost unable to hold the gun in her grasp.
Finally, the ivory pistol fell to the ground.
Logan Bennett swept the gun off the floor.
"I can't die, otherwise, Ivana will never be at peace for the rest of her life. But, I can give you a leg or an arm, or if you want, I could spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair... Ask for anything you want, set any conditions... as long as you can forgive me and let the two children be together."
Logan Bennett raised his right hand, in which he held a sharp short blade.
"You choose!"
The Duchess grit her teeth, unable to speak.
Logan Bennett handed the knife to his left hand, "Since you won't speak, I'll just pick one. I'm used to killing with my right hand, and now, I'm giving you my right hand!"
