The hospital was as silent as death.
The early morning before dawn was dark and gloomy.
Three seconds passed after Lewis Marshall finished speaking before the young Mr. Clegg finally managed to squeeze out a response through gritted teeth.
"Isn't that right? My dear brother," hatred accumulated over many years resonated in his eyes. "How did that kitten die back then?"
There was no ripple in Lewis Marshall's eyes as he slightly raised an eyebrow: "What kitten?"
The young Mr. Clegg remained silent.
Lewis Marshall spoke again, his words breezed into his brother's ear in a soft sigh, "I've destroyed so much of yours... I can hardly remember some cat or dog."
Shawn Clegg's fingers were clenching his palm so tightly, they were about to draw blood.
"Behave, brother," Lewis Marshall's indifferent tone, coupled with the playful smirk on his lips, made him look like a devil from hell. "I'll take this woman, so she doesn't go to waste in your hands."
