"Greta, Brent's already..." A man reached out his hands, trying to stop her.
It took Greta a long time to accept the fact. She stared at the calm sea, speechless.
Brent had been thrown into the sea after being severely punished.
She came late.
It was too late.
Greta collapsed on the bank, gasping for breath.
It was the last time she saw him in the basement last night.
Tears from the depths of despair rose in her heart and gathered in her eyes.
She had never shed a tear under Barzini's strict instruction.
But now, despair swept down upon her, overpoweringly.
She would never see the silent, wooden, amorous man again.
A tear, larger than an ocean pearl, fell from her eyes.
After a long time, Greta staggered to her feet, dried her tears, and ran the other way to the manor.
She flew up the front steps, across the porch, and threw open the door of Barzini's room.
Barzini looked up suddenly when she burst in without knocking.
"I thought you knew the rules!" he snapped with disapproval in his eyes.
Greta stared coldly at her foster father, who had just killed her bodyguard. He looked so calm, as if nothing had happened...
Anger and despair welled in her. Hot blood poured into her brain.
For the first time, she looked at her foster father without respect and fear.
"Why, why did you kill Brent?" She asked quietly.
Barzini seemed to have known the reason for her sudden rude arrival.
"Just a bodyguard, forget it. Is it worth getting angry with me? I'll get you a better bodyguard." He said simply.
"I ask you why you killed Brent!" Greta stared steadily at the middle-aged man in front of her.
Barzini, however, was not annoyed by her rudeness. He felt relieved at the return of his unsympathetic and feelingless adopted daughter.
This was what he wanted to see.
As his heir, she should be ruthless.
Her cold character, as well as the vein of cruelty in her, helped her run the gang for him.
"Feeling is the last thing you need. It'll become your weakness. You were too nice and too concerned about your bodyguard, and that, in turn, weakened you. I killed him, and you should be tough and cold at everyone around you." It was his way to teach her a lesson.
"You killed Brent to make me callous and insensitive?" Greta's lips trembled uncontrollably.
"Brent? All I know is that he's a machine I picked up from an orphanage and trained to be your bodyguard. He exists to protect you. If he became a nuisance in your way, he'd better disappear." Barzini talked about Brent as if he were a cat or dog.
Greta's face turned paler.
Barzini frowned. Never before had he seen such a cold, steely determination in her eye—such a cruel look of murder.
"Just a bodyguard. Is it necessary to care for him so much?" Barzini walked up to her, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly. "Greta, your job is to take care of my gang. I know you're a smart kid. All right, go back to sleep and get well. Everything's going as usual."
Would everything be as usual?
She glanced darkly at his hand on her shoulder.
He had lied to her for so many years and deliberately made her take the Sterlings as her enemies. She almost killed her uncle and aunt with her own hands, and she was unable to return to her family.
She had been grateful to her foster father for adopting her and giving her a good life, but now she knew that he was only a pervert, a cruel, selfish pervert.
He never regarded her as his daughter, nor did he really love her. All the while, he just took her as a tool, an unsentimental tool that could help him to manage the gang. He even killed the only person close to her...
She turned slowly and walked to the door.
Barzini smiled with satisfaction. He thought she was just a little lost and would recover soon.
"Thank you, dad, for all the years you've nurtured and sheltered me." Greta stopped short at the door and suddenly turned. "Rest assured, I will live up to your expectations."
Barzini, somewhat surprised, seemed not to expect her to return to her old ways. He nodded in relief. "Well --"
Before his word fell, Greta thrust her hand in her jacket and suddenly took a pistol out, pointing it at his chest.
His pupils constricted, and before he reacted, a rifle shot cracked out, and extensive blood splatter from his chest. He covered the hole in his chest and eyed Greta squarely in disbelief.
"You..."
Greta walked over to him, looking at him pityingly. "You want me to be a heartless person, don't you? You see, that satisfies you?"
Then she lifted her hand and gave him a gentle push.
Barzini fell on his back, and he died with his eyes open.
The carpet under the body was instantly reddened by blood.
Greta put down her pistol and walked out of the study.
She went back to the wharf.
The sky and water were as quiet and blue as usual. No one knew a man had just lost his life here.
She watched the calm sea silently.
Brent. I avenged you.
I told you, you're my people, and I won't let you get hurt.
This time, I failed to save you, but don't worry, I'll be with you.
She stood on the wharf, alone and still, gazing out to sea.
Her home was in that direction.
There was the Atlantic Ocean between her and her family.
On the plane back to Italy, she thought she might return to LA and live with them one day.
But now... she was afraid it was impossible.
All right, she could go to see her mom and dad in heaven.
They must have been waiting for her for a long time.
From now on, she would not be used by others, nor need to be a heartless and cold-blooded tool. She could accompany her parents forever and ever. Oh, yes, maybe she could meet Brent.
With a happy and serene smile on her lips, she grasped the necklace with her parents' photo around her neck and then closed her eyes and spread out her slender arms.
In the cries of the crew on a nearby returning ship, she jumped into the sea.
* * *
Two years later.
Dylan got a call from Jacob in the morning.
An hour later, he and Savannah arrived at the hospital.
On the corridor outside a ward, Jacob had been waiting for a long time.
"Where's she?" Dylan hurried over.
"In the ward," Jacob glanced at the closed door of the ward. "Greta's been transferred from the hospital in Cairo, Egypt."
"What happened to her?" Savannah asked anxiously.
"Two years ago, she was saved by a fisher in a small fishing village near the red sea in Egypt. She's been lying insensible in bed for more than one year," Jacob sighed and continued, "Two months ago, she woke up, but still weak. She never spoke of her name or her family. The fisherman was so kind that he had taken good care of her. Because the medical conditions in the small village were limited, he sent her to a hospital in downtown Cairo. Luckily, the deputy director of the hospital, my former colleague, had heard that I had been looking for an American girl. He checked and found that the girl was exactly who I wanted. Yesterday, he arranged a special plane for her, and she was transferred here this morning."
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