A Second Chance at Forever

Chapter 1377

Without offering any explanation or begging for mercy, Peterson simply walked into the middle of the study. With his back to Yates, he shrugged off his coat and knelt down with a stoic grace.

With a whip in hand, Yates rose from the leather couch, his gaze unwavering as he lashed out at Peterson’s scar-riddled back. Twenty times the whip cracked, each strike splitting skin and drawing fresh, crimson blood that spurted out in a grim display. Through the excruciating pain, Peterson didn’t utter a single sound.

Once done, Yates tossed the whip aside and stared coldly at Peterson.

“The chip in Bernard’s head, and the injuries he had-I don’t want you mentioning a word to Eleanor. Next time, it won’t just be twenty lashes.”

Biting back the pain, Peterson dressed, turned with a pale face, and nodded to Yates.

“You have my word, I won’t interfere any further.”

He had already betrayed his grandfather once, he couldn’t bear to do it again. So now, it was up to Eleanor to uncover the truth on her own.

After dealing with Peterson, Yates stood up, “We set out for Area Opaca now. We must return by six in the morning. Make the arrangements.”

“Understood.”

the door of the study just as Eleanor appeared outside, waiting. He quickly wiped the sweat from his

study was soundproof; Eleanor hadn’t heard a thing. And with two

concerned whether Yates had been harsh with him. Peterson, his injuries hidden by the black suit, smiled reassuringly. “Our grandfather? How could he be tough on me? Don’t worry

had more questions, but Peterson, pressed for time, cut her off. “Dear Eleanor, my mother isn’t

you trouble, tell me. I’ll give him a piece of my mind.”Books Chapters Are Daily Updated Join & Stay Updated For All

but smile at her words. Twenty lashes in exchange for his cousin’s trust and care was a price he was

mansion. A group of figures in black, their faces masked, quickly made their way

chambers, lying on the floor as far as the eye could see. From above, one could

were not just any bodies; they were specimens for biochemical experiments, each marked with the letter ‘S’-members of the

a tall man sat against the floor, one knee raised, his long, elegant hands resting on it. Following those well-defined fingers upward, one met a

lost his wife to the sea, and of a man surrounded

had wished to join them, but the hatred etched into his bones kept waking him in those cold, desolate nights, forcing him to