A dark private mansion in baroque style was secluded in the surrounding mountains and lakes and hidden in the night.

It was late at night, but the light on the second floor was still on.

A slim figure was sitting on a rattan rocking chair, quietly looking out of the window, as if waiting for something.

There came a gentle tap on the door.

"Come in," the boy on the chair said lazily.

The poker-face bodyguard, Brent, came in.

He strode over to the boy and made a bow.

"Nicolo called and said Mr. Sterling just called him," he reported.

The boy nodded, drumming his fingers on the arm on the chair.

After waiting all night, it finally came.

Dylan Sterling must, on no account, be taken lightly.

He found that Nicolo had tied up Savannah so quickly.

Good, only a strong opponent deserved to play with him.

"Go on." The boy clenched his delicate fingers, and a cool light touched his beautiful eyes.

"Nicolo, at your command, told Mr. Sterling that if he wanted to see Schultz, he should go to the warehouse alone. Our people will pick him up in the morning. If he tells the police or brings someone over, Schultz will die, and Mr. Sterling agreed." Brent continued.

"Good," the boy was tired and decided to clean up before he went to bed.

After all, he was going to see that man tomorrow.

He had to conserve his strength.

The moment he stood up from the chair, he doubled up with pain, as if he inadvertently touched a wound on him.

Brent noticed his pale face and took a step up, "are you all right?"

"Nothing. You go ahead." The boy fought the pain and straightened up, and his face became quiet and somber.

"Your wound is painful? Let me apply some ointment for you..." Brent's eyes fell on him with concern.

He knew the boy had wounds on his back, and it was not convenient for him to do it himself. Someone had to help.

The boy gritted his teeth, "I said, no."

"Greta.." He blurted out the boy's name.

"Enough! Remember your own identity, you are only my bodyguard!" The boy's voice, which was in a period of change, sounded gravelly and domineering, extremely inconsistent with his age.

Brent, sensing the unapproachable air of the boy, lowered his head and whispered, "Young Master, you came to Milan to do some private business without permission from the godfather. He would beat you again when he knows. Please come back with me right after meeting Dylan Sterling. If the godfather finds out, please let me help you to explain."

The boy shuddered at the thought of the stern look on his adoptive father's face and the cane in his hand, but he still shook his head with restive eyes.

"You are not qualified to worry about me. I know what to do."

Brent said no more and turned to leave. When he reached the door, he stopped and said in a low voice, "don't touch the water until the wound is healed, or it will get worse."

With the door closed, the boy's tight face relaxed, and he went into the bathroom.

He removed the clothes slowly.

A slender, then body appeared in the mirror.

The thin neck was so pale white that you could almost see the blood vessels beneath the skin.

As he removed the strips of white cloth wrapped around the chest, the swell of his breasts could be seen instead of tight chest muscles.

No, not he, but she.

She was a pubescent girl, not a boy.

historical

The girl looked at herself in the mirror and then turned around, looking at her back in the mirror.

His white skin was covered with wounds and bruises.

Some of the wounds were severe and bloody.

It looked like she had been hit on the back by a stick.

The new wounds overlapped the old marks, and they intertwined with each other, screaming out from her delicate white skin.

The sight made the girl more sensible to the pain. She gasped and tried to calm down, picked up the medicinal oil, and applied it on the wounds with a cotton swab dip. She had to twist an arm with difficulty and be careful not to hurt herself.

Finally, it was done.

She used a wet towel to wipe her body and then re-wrapped her breasts with several layers of white cloth. She put on clean clothes, walking out of the bathroom.

It would be daylight in two or three hours.

The girl climbed into bed, surprised to find it covered with a very soft flannel blanket.

Brent must have slipped in while she was in the bathroom and made the bed so that the wound on her back would not hurt too much when she slept.

The girl squinted, a tender look coming into her eyes but disappeared soon.

Maybe it was because she could see her enemy the next day, or the wound still hurt, she couldn't get to sleep.

She sat up and took out a necklace from the bedside cabinet, stroking it gently. Her expression softened. She took off the arms in front of others, returning to a little girl.

The necklace was with a seashell pendant.

She opened the seashell pendant, and there was a picture in it.

It was a picture of a young man and a young woman.

They were in their best years, and they looked like students.

The young man looked elegant in a white shirt. He should be a gentleman from a superior family.

The young woman had bright eyes, and her hair was falling around her shoulder. She was wearing a white dress, simple but beautiful.

They snuggled together, smiling.

They must be very happy, but they never knew that their beauty would always stay in the photo at that moment, for people to remember.

"Dad, mom. Tomorrow, I will avenge you." The girl murmured, staring at the picture, and slowly she closed her eyes with a childlike silly smile. Holding the necklace, as if holding her parents, who were no longer in the world, she gradually fell asleep.

* * *

When Dylan got back from the police station, it was after midnight, but he had no intention of sleeping.

Garwood knew that after dawn, Mr. Sterling would have to negotiate with the Mafia alone. He felt very worried, but he couldn't find a better way.

Finally, he could not help but say, "Sir, it's too dangerous for you to go alone. The Mafia are all heartless and cruel, and we don't know what the hell they want. Let me and the bodyguards follow you through so that we can protect you if anything happens..."