?Chapter 1290:


    He coughed a few more times, his breathing steadier than before, and speaking came a bit easier, though his throat still ached.


    Terrence pressed his lips together; the careless swagger he sometimes wore had vanished.


    His face went nk, his stare an icy, terrifying thing.


    After a long beat, the old man spoke slowly. “Terrence, you must understand—since I saved you, your path was set. From the day I taught you the trade, taught you how to kill… even from the moment you first called me Grandfather, you were meant to kill her and Dn. I could have spared her, but she should never have tangled with the Scott family. Everyst Scott deserves to die! It’s a pity Herbert won’t watch his line perish by my hand, but when I die I’ll tell him myself—” he snarled, the venom clear in his voice.


    The old man’s temper red once more, his frail body shuddering as another harsh fit of coughing tore through him. Even so, the hatred didn’t let up; it hissed through clenched teeth. “Damn them! Damn them all! They deserve to die!”


    The old man’s fury was so intense it set the room on edge, sending a cold shiver through anyone nearby.


    Terrence just stood there, frozen, his fingers clenching the medicine bottle like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. Waylon Branson’s voice rang in his head. Ever since Waylon saved him, his life had never really been his own.


    He and Dn were born to be enemies, and anyone who got too close to Dn was automatically on Terrence’s hit list. He wasn’t just a grandson. He was a loaded gun in Waylon’s hand, pointed at every enemy in sight. And now, that list had Christina on it.


    Waylon had made it crystal clear. Anyone from the Scott family bloodline, or even anyone with a shot at joining that family, was the enemy. No exceptions.


    Terrence didn’t want to fight Christina, let alone kill her. And he sure wasn’t going to let anyone elsey a finger on her either.


    But how was he supposed to go against the man who had saved his life? The one who taught him how to survive in a world that chews people up and spits them out?


    To Terrence, Waylon wasn’t just family, he was the reason he was still breathing.


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    Everything he was, everything he’d be, it all traced back to Waylon. Without him, Terrence would have been dead or worse. Still, no matter how deep the loyalty ran, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Christina.


    If it really came down to it, then he knew what he had to do: betray Waylon.


    Terrence’s gaze hardened. In one swift move, he pulled out a silenced pistol, no hesitation.


    Waylon didn’t flinch. No shock, no fear, just that same unreadable calm he always wore.


    He knew Terrence inside out. The world saw him as a coldblooded killer, a heartless man people whispered about in fear. But Waylon knew better. Terrence would never pull the trigger on him. Not after everything he owed.


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