It was not convenient to apply for medicine on the back on his own.

Greta went over and took medicine from his hand.

"Greta..." Brent blurted out, turning with surprise.

"Lie down. Don't move." She pressed him down softly.

"No, I can manage it..."

"Don't talk nonsense," she said with a very emphatic pronunciation.

Brent then lay down and left his back to her.

Greta dabbed the medicine on his back little by little. The injury on his back was more serious than she thought. In addition to the injury left by the stick, some new scars covered each other, which should be the result of Barzini's punishment after she was arrested by the police.

Apart from that, there were some old wounds and bruises, each one representing the danger he had taken to protect her over the years.

Two bullet wounds...

That time, two of the gang's leaders fell out. To train her ability of management, Barzini sent her to intervene. Unexpectedly, the two leaders fought on the spot, and the bullets flew everywhere. Brent protected her tightly and took two bullets for her. Fortunately, they didn't get him in the key part.

And this knife wound...

Barzini ordered her to disguise herself as a man from her childhood. But she was only a nine-year-old girl at that time and began to know beauty. She secretly wore her hair long. When it was finally discovered by Barzini, he cut off her shoulder-length hair in a rage and tried to scratch her face with the scissors so that she would no longer care about her look. Brent rushed to block the scissors coming to her. After that, a horrifying wound left on his back.

At this, Greta glanced over at Brent, who was lying on his stomach.

He was one of the bodyguards Barzini gave her when she was five. He was said to be an orphan. Although he was only six years older than her, he had undergone severe training, and he had speed, agility, and lightning-fast reflexes.

They grew up together.

His mission was to keep her safe with his own life at any time and anywhere.

Now she was fourteen, and the man who accompanied her all the time was twenty years old.

He became a sexually attractive man with a well-developed physique. He had well-developed muscles at the shoulders and back. Sweat beaded on his sun-tanned skin, giving him incredible sensuality. Then she bent her glance on his narrow waist and tight buttocks…

Her heart skipped a beat.

"I can take care of myself," she said calmly, "leave me alone when my father beat me the next time."

"I'm your bodyguard," Brent said in a hollow voice.

"So you risked your life every time?" she asked coldly. "Do you think you're a cat with nine lives?"

Even if he had nine lives, he was almost out of them after all he had suffered for her.

"My life is nothing compared with yours," Brent replied in a deep whisper.

She froze, and her face changed.

"Brent, are you disobeying me?"

Brent sat up straight and looked at Greta, who lost her temper for no reason.

"I dare not," he lowered his eyes.

"Then mark my words. I was hoping you wouldn't take the bullet or blow for me next time! You can save me only when you can protect yourself well! Promise me!" Greta stared at him.

Brent froze and shook his head dully.

"Sorry, I can't promise you about this. Next time I'll still protect you when you're in danger. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, even if it might cost me my life."

As his last word fell, Greta slapped him in the face!

A tiny palm print appeared on his cheek.

"You won't be told?" Greta slapped him on the other side of his face.

He raised his head, his eyes full of affection and concern.

"You're still in poor health. Don't get angry," he said softly.

Greta stared at him.

How could he have so little respect for his own life?

Greta, choked with anger, stormed out of his room.

She couldn't understand why she was so angry.

She was very uncomfortable when Brent didn't take his life seriously every time!

Back in her room, she felt so tired that she didn't have the strength to pack the luggage. She climbed onto the bed and fell asleep immediately without changing her clothes.

***

The next day, Greta followed Barzini back to Rome, accompanied by Brent and a group of bodyguards.

As the ancient capital of Italy, Rome was also the center of the Mafia.

Barzini, as the godfather and authority of the gang, lived in a Vatican-style estate behind the Trinity Church in Rome.

By the time they arrived, the housekeepers and servants were already waiting for them at the gate.

They were relieved to see their young master back safely.

Everyone knew that Barzini made the most of his adopted child.

After Greta was caught by the police, Barzini punished all who took care of Greta severely.

Barzini looked at Greta beside him. She was silent without any reaction. She used to be cool, but this time she looked weak and soulless.

Something in her changed after she learned that the Sterlings were not her enemies.

And this was not what he wanted to see.

His adopted daughter should be inhuman and heartless instead of starving for affection from her family.

Barzini's face darkened.

***

Golden shafts of afternoon light shone through the tall eucalyptus trees. In the garden of the manor, Greta lay on the lawn, chewing a blade of grass lazily.

Suddenly, a face appeared in sight from above.

"Brent, make a sound next time you're here." She frowned.

"Yes, young master," Brent hung his head slightly like an obedient bodyguard.

"What's the matter?"

"You have a fencing lesson this afternoon. The teacher has come. Won't you go?"

"Let him wait." Greta closed her eyes.

"Barzini will be unhappy," said Brent dryly.

"Only a few minutes late. If you don't say anything, the fencing teacher doesn't dare say much. Dad will never know."

"..." Brent looked at the girl speechlessly. His young master's temper seemed to have changed since she came back.

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