0017

1931 Words
Brother? She let out a bitter laugh. How many times did he need to remind her of that? Thomas gazed at her deeply, his arms holding her tightly with no intention of letting go. Amelia suddenly felt the urge to cry. This was the first time he had ever held her, and it had to be under such circumstances. In the past, he had always been cold toward her. Even after they grew closer, he hadn't shown her any affection, but he hadn't ignored her like he did later on. "Thank you," Amelia said, her voice distant as she pulled herself from his arms. She quickly turned away, afraid that Thomas would see her tears. If he did, she would lose all her dignity. Thomas watched her thin, frail figure, her limp as she pretended to be strong, and a fire ignited in his heart. Unrelenting, he caught up to her, grabbed her again, and forcibly dragged her toward the car. "I told you, I don't need you to drive me. I could leave on my own back then, and I can do it now," Amelia struggled against him, but tears she could no longer hold back spilled down her cheeks, falling onto their entwined arms, burning the man's heart. "About what happened back then-" Unable to bear her coldness any longer, Thomas had just begun to explain when his phone rang, cutting him off. With clear irritation, Thomas pulled out his phone, Henry's name flashing obnoxiously across the screen. Henry only called in emergencies, otherwise he wouldn't dare disturb him. Gripping Amelia tightly with one hand, Thomas swiped the phone open with the other. "Speak," he commanded, his tone icy. Henry nearly dropped the phone. He had heard the Collins family's eldest daughter had returned. Thomas had barely stepped foot into the company before snatching the car keys from Henry and disappearing. Henry was well aware of Boss Thomas's driving skills and naturally had no cause for concern. What intrigued him more was his curiosity-what would the eldest daughter of the Collins family look like in person? "Boss Thomas, someone from The Mafia has arrived, and it's their second-in-command," Henry reported succinctly. Thomas's handsome face remained cold as he abruptly ended the call. Amelia suddenly realized her hand was still in his, allowing him to hold it while speaking on the phone. She struggled to pull away. "Stop it!" Thomas barked, his voice harsh, the phone call just now clearly adding insult to injury. Amelia, unsure why he was so agitated, was determined not to get entangled with him any longer. "I'm not the one making a scene-you are. Mr. Thomas, let me remind you, it was you who refused to let go of my hand," Amelia retorted sharply. What was he angry about? What kind of call could have riled him up like this? With a forceful tug, Amelia freed her hand and broke into a run, quickly turning a corner and vanishing down the verdant avenue. Thomas took a step forward, almost chasing after her, but stopped himself. His gaze lingered where she had disappeared, his eyelids slowly lowering, casting a shadow over his face. The scene brought a sudden memory, taking him back to three years ago, the day he left... On that day, he didn't tell her he was going. He had hidden in the airport lounge, watching her rush in, clad in her blue and white school uniform, her pale face streaked with glistening tears. How he had longed to run out, to embrace her, to tell her that he loved her, that he had loved her for so long, long before she ever knew. But now, what right did he have to speak of love? With his tragic and shameful past? That uncertain future, tainted with the blood of who knows how many, marked by the corpses of those he'd have to step over. A future fraught with peril, where life and death hung in the balance-what did he have to offer her? Thomas closed his eyes, concealing the emotions that should never have appeared on his face, and opened the car door, speeding away in a cloud of dust. Amelia didn't know how far she had run, only that she stopped when her legs ached and she was too breathless to continue. Thomas hadn't come after her. At last, Amelia could no longer maintain her composure; her shoulders slumped as faint sobs escaped with her breath. She bit down hard on her hand, desperate not to lose control and cry out loud, her hand beginning to bleed from the pressure. Thomas, from now on, I will not pine for you anymore. I will live for myself, for Emily. But I'm sorry-I will never tell you that Emily exists. Thinking of Emily, a wave of panic suddenly swept over Amelia. Now that Thomas and her father knew her address, would they send someone to investigate? Once they started digging, wouldn't Emily be exposed? No, she had to find a way to keep Emily hidden from them. At Sun International Tower, luxury cars surrounded the building in rows, with no fewer than a hundred bodyguards stationed at various points. It was clear from the scene that someone of considerable stature was inside. Henry had already been waiting at the entrance. As soon as Thomas arrived, Henry signaled to a security guard, guiding the car into the garage. Before Henry could even react, Thomas was striding toward him, radiating hostility. Henry's heart raced, his body froze in place, unable to move, anxiety rising within him. Sure enough, as soon as Thomas approached, he lifted his leg and kicked Henry hard. Henry stumbled back several steps before regaining his balance, bowing his head in deference. Thomas kicked him again without hesitation. Henry instinctively dodged, but one icy glance from Thomas forced him to stand still, enduring another blow. "I asked you to investigate someone, and you still managed to get it wrong Seems like you've gotten too comfortable and are itching for a trip to Africa to toughen up," Thomas said coldly, stepping closer. "Boss Thomas, you can punish me however you like, just... just don't send me to that place," Henry pleaded, aggrieved. How could he have known that the person Boss Thomas asked him to investigate was the eldest daughter of the Collins family? Had he known earlier, he would have been more diligent. Thomas brushed past him, heading toward the building without another word. "Boss Thomas..." Henry, not having received permission to follow, didn't dare move, but attempted a feeble plea. Thomas ignored him. Just as Henry resigned himself to the thought that he'd be sent to Africa to dig coal, Thomas spoke suddenly, "Don't let it happen again." Relieved by this rare leniency, Henry hurried after him, almost bowing in gratitude. "You said the second-in-command of The Mafia has arrived?" Thomas asked as he stepped into the elevator, his face dark. At the mention of this, Henry became excited. "Boss Thomas, you won't believe it —the second-in-command of The Mafia is a woman. And she's absolutely stunning, with a body to die for." Henry's enthusiasm was palpable, and he was practically drooling, utterly abandoning the cool, aloof demeanor typical of a bodyguard. Thomas remained silent, his hands clenching and unclenching in repeated motions. He hadn't expected it? No, he truly hadn't anticipated this. "You talk too much!" he snapped. All he had asked for was the person's identity, not their appearance. Besides, from what he knew of her, her beauty was something he could easily imagine. Henry wisely fell silent. The opulent conference hall, large enough to hold thousands, was guarded by bodyguards the moment they stepped off the elevator. These guards, however, were not Thomas's- they belonged to The Mafia's second-in-command. Henry scoffed quietly. Even if she held a high position within The Mafia, did she really need to make such a grand show of it? And to be so bold on Boss Thomas's turf-wasn't that a bit too brazen? The guards outside were at least respectful, opening the doors to the hall without issue. Henry scratched his head irritably, feeling as though they had stepped onto someone else's territory instead. In contrast, Thomas's handsome face had already turned icy, cold enough to freeze over. "Boss Thomas, aren't we going in?" Henry asked, puzzled by Thomas's hesitation at the doorway. Thomas shot him a cold glance, and Henry immediately shut his mouth, quickly removing Thomas's suit jacket and draping it over his arm. They entered the hall, where only one woman occupied the chairman's seat at the far end of the room. Thomas's gaze locked onto her, his eyes sharp as blades, though they flickered uncertainly for a brief moment. Following his gaze, Henry saw a woman with short, neatly styled hair, a delicate, heart-shaped face, and dressed in a long black robe that nearly touched the floor. Around her neck, an out-of-place necklace hung, carved from the finest jade into the shape of the letter "K." She wore no other accessories, making the necklace all the more eye-catching. As the sound of footsteps echoed, the woman didn't bother to lift her gaze from the magazine in her hands. Her lips, painted a striking shade of red, curved into a smile that could enchant the masses. She spoke softly, her tone laced with arrogance, "Mr. Thomas, it's a pleasure to finally meet. I hope I'm not too abrupt." Her voice carried a haughty air, and her nails, painted the same crimson as her lips, hinted at the enigma she was. The opulent conference hall, large enough to hold thousands, was guarded by bodyguards the moment they stepped off the elevator. These guards, however, were not Thomas's- they belonged to The Mafia's second-in-command. Henry scoffed quietly. Even if she held a high position within The Mafia, did she really need to make such a grand show of it? And to be so bold on Boss Thomas's turf-wasn't that a bit too brazen? The guards outside were at least respectful, opening the doors to the hall without issue. Henry scratched his head irritably, feeling as though they had stepped onto someone else's territory instead. In contrast, Thomas's handsome face had already turned icy, cold enough to freeze over. "Boss Thomas, aren't we going in?" Henry asked, puzzled by Thomas's hesitation at the doorway. Thomas shot him a cold glance, and Henry immediately shut his mouth, quickly removing Thomas's suit jacket and draping it over his arm. They entered the hall, where only one woman occupied the chairman's seat at the far end of the room. Thomas's gaze locked onto her, his eyes sharp as blades, though they flickered uncertainly for a brief moment. Following his gaze, Henry saw a woman with short, neatly styled hair, a delicate, heart-shaped face, and dressed in a long black robe that nearly touched the floor. Around her neck, an out-of-place necklace hung, carved from the finest jade into the shape of the letter "K." She wore no other accessories, making the necklace all the more eye-catching. As the sound of footsteps echoed, the woman didn't bother to lift her gaze from the magazine in her hands. Her lips, painted a striking shade of red, curved into a smile that could enchant the masses. She spoke softly, her tone laced with arrogance, "Mr. Thomas, it's a pleasure to finally meet. I hope I'm not too abrupt." Her voice carried a haughty air, and her nails, painted the same crimson as her lips, hinted at the enigma she was.
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