Lane chuckled darkly, his tone dripping with scorn.

"You sure have a tough shell to crack! I should've realized what you were up to from the get-go!"

He raised his hand again, and Kenneth had already shut his eyes, bracing for another blow, or whatever form of assault was coming next. But instead, Lane just stood up and wiped the blood that had stained his hands.

"What did I tell you before I left? Behave, and you'd be free to go! You've been a real disappointment."

"Kenneth, consider yourself lucky. The cops are all over Quincy's case like white on rice, and killing you would just be another headache for me! Otherwise, whether it's one or two doesn't make a difference to me today! Dorothy's already given into my demands and is mine now. I don't want any more trouble, so... don't push me."

Lane turned to grab a pocketknife from the table and leaned down to cut the ropes binding Kenneth.

Choked by the blood in his nostrils and throat, Kenneth coughed violently, looking utterly defeated.

Catching a glimpse of Kenneth's state, Lane snorted, "Just a couple of punches, you won't die! Go back and make me dinner, and you might just keep your life!"

with his elbows, struggling to his

of line again, I'll make sure it's the end of you! Now, get

he walked ahead, leaving Kenneth

to stem the bleeding, appeared to be wiping the blood from his face and body. Unseen, he discreetly dropped a small black box in a corner of the room,

unmoving, Lane asked with a menacing edge to

didn't respond but covered his mouth and

walked, one after

Lane suddenly stopped and turned to Kenneth, You'd better give up any thought of sneaking a cure. The stuff

veln

antidote! The real cure, I never

But take

you

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