He didn't know if he was speaking to himself, or trying to convince her.
Rong Shaoze felt a sharp pain in his heart; he almost fled in a disgraceful turn.
He dared not listen any longer; there were some truths he would rather be lies, truths he wished to never know.
How could the child he killed be his own?
It was impossible for it to be his child, it just couldn't be, it had to be a mistake!
In the spacious room, the servants were guarded like prisoners.
Separated by gender, each huddled in a corner; they dared not whisper among themselves, only hanging their heads, trembling as they waited for the arrival of Rong Shaoze.
Eight bodyguards, in black attire and imposing frames, wearing sunglasses and expressionless faces, stood watch over them. Their fearsome appearance alone was enough to intimidate and strike fear into anyone.
Rong Shaoze walked in, and all the bodyguards respectfully bowed to him.
