Chapter 527
Chapter 527
"Yeah, just me." Beatrice let out a cold laugh and stepped forward, no longer bothering to hide the irritation and disgust in her voice. "If you weren't tied to me in this mess, you think I'd risk coming to see a moron like you?"
She leaned down, getting right in Harold's face, her voice dropping even lower, each word seeming to squeeze through clenched teeth:
"Are you seriously brain-dead? Huh? Assassinate Alexander? Why don't you just try flying to the moon while you're at it? Do you have any idea who Alexander is? How many lives do you think you have for him to play with?"
The more Beatrice talked, the angrier she got. She wanted to crack Harold's skull open and see if it was filled with nothing but water.
Viper was just as screwed up!
Always picking these incompetent losers to work with, constantly dragging her down.
If it weren't for that damned leverage Viper had on her.
If she weren't desperate to avoid going back to that hellhole of a prison, she would've walked away from this whole thing ages ago!
Push her too far, and she'd burn it all down. If she was going down, everyone was going down with her!
Harold sat there stunned for a moment after her tirade, then his own anger flared. "Who the hell are you anyway? What gives you the right to lecture me? If you're so tough, tell Zoey to finish me off!"
"Finish you off?" Beatrice straightened up, crossed her arms, and looked down at him like he was a pile of garbage. "You think Zoey wouldn't dare? Or maybe you think Alexander will keep you around? Harold, wake up. The only reason you're still breathing isn't because they're merciful—it's because you still have a tiny bit of use left."
She paused, forcing down her rage. She knew now wasn't the time for infighting.
Viper's orders came first.
"Cut the crap. All you need to know is that Viper sent me."
She emphasized those last words heavily.
The anger and mockery on Harold's face froze instantly.
His pupils contracted slightly as he studied Beatrice with fresh eyes.
Earlier, he'd been too consumed by pain and fury to look closely.
Now that he'd calmed down, he noticed something familiar in this woman's gaze, despite her beauty.
It was the aura of the underworld—vigilance, calculation, and a ruthlessness hidden beneath a delicate exterior.
"You..." he started hesitantly, "you're really with Viper?"
"What else?" Beatrice snapped. "I came here on vacation to admire your pathetic state?"
Harold fell silent for several seconds, seemingly processing this information and trying to judge whether she was telling the truth.
The wounds on his body still burned, reminding him of Zoey's methods and Alexander's terrifying power.
Survival instinct finally won out.
"...How are you planning to get me out?" he asked hoarsely, his attitude softening slightly though still laced with suspicion.
"Before that, I have a question." Instead of answering directly, Beatrice stared at him. "Why did you try to assassinate Alexander? Don't give me some crap about a greater cause. I won't buy it."
A flash of embarrassment crossed Harold's face, quickly replaced by twisted hatred.
He looked away, his voice muffled but filled with resentment and madness. "Because he took Zoey from me! Zoey should've been mine! I knew her first! When we were in prison... I was the only one who protected her! What's Alexander got? What gives him the right?!"
Zoey again!
Beatrice felt rage shoot straight to her head, her temples throbbing.
She clenched her fists so hard her nails dug into her palms, using the pain to remind herself to stay calm.
She almost laughed from sheer fury.
So this idiot had created this whole disaster, nearly dragging everyone down with him, all because of a woman?
Because of some pathetic, one-sided infatuation.
That bitch Zoey!
Couldn't keep it in her pants even in prison, always playing games with men!
No wonder she got out early—she probably used these stupid men every chance she got.
Beatrice remembered how she'd paid people in prison to make Zoey's life hell. Not only had she failed to get rid of her, but Zoey had latched onto Alexander, gotten out, and then viciously retaliated, even managing to set up Beatrice and get her sent to prison...
Old and new grudges intertwined, pushing Beatrice's hatred for Zoey to its peak.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on that.
She took a deep breath, forced herself to swallow the churning rage, and put on an almost mockingly concerned expression. "So you knew Zoey in prison? She really is... quite something."
The implication in her words successfully triggered Harold's need to vent and his resentment.
Like he'd found a kindred spirit, he began telling her in fits and starts how he'd protected Zoey in prison, how devoted he'd been to her, only for Zoey to turn her back on him after getting out, then team up with Alexander to corner him...
Beatrice listened patiently, sneering inwardly.
Lovesick fool. No wonder he got used.
When Harold had said his piece, Beatrice cut him off. "Alright, I don't care about your soap opera. Now, let's talk business. Viper wants to know—did you sell them out?"
Harold immediately shook his head, his tone urgent. "No! Absolutely not! Zoey just asked why I wanted to kill Alexander. I didn't say anything! I swear!"
Beatrice stared into his eyes, trying to determine if he was lying.
She didn't believe a single word.
Someone like Harold, brain scrambled by so-called love, acting impulsively without thinking things through—how long would his mouth stay shut under torture or psychological pressure?
Zoey probably didn't even need to ask much before he'd spill everything he knew.
But that wasn't the priority right now.
What mattered was getting him out of here or shutting him up permanently.
"Fine, I'll take your word for it." Beatrice pretended to relax, then got serious. "Listen, I'm going to go get Zoey and the others. Then you need to play along with me."
"Play along?" Harold looked confused.
"Yes." Beatrice nodded, speaking faster. "I'm going to tell Zoey you're my boyfriend. We had a fight, you did something stupid in the heat of the moment, and now I've forgiven you and I'm taking you home."
Harold's brow immediately furrowed into a knot. He looked at Beatrice like she was insane. "Are you out of your mind? How could I possibly like you? I don't even know who you are!"
Beatrice couldn't hold back a cold laugh, her eyes icy and mocking. "You think I'd be interested in you? Harold, if it weren't for saving my own skin, I wouldn't even waste a glance on you. Don't flatter yourself."
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping with undeniable threat:
"You've got two choices right now."
"First, cooperate with me. Pretend to be my lovesick idiot boyfriend. I'll make up an excuse to get you away from Zoey. Whether I actually let you go afterward or hand you over to Viper—we'll see how it goes. Second..."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over the wounds covering his body. The implication was clear.
"Stay here and let Zoey—or Alexander—torture you to death slowly. Given what you've done, do you think they'll let you die easy?"
Harold's face grew paler with each word.
His wounds still throbbed dully, reminding him of Zoey's methods.
And Alexander...
His name alone represented insurmountable power and ruthlessness.
If he fell into Alexander's hands, death would be a luxury.
"Also," Beatrice added one final blow, hitting his most vulnerable nerve, "Viper's waiting for an update. You'd better think carefully."
Harold's body trembled almost imperceptibly.
He lowered his head, staring at the filthy bloodstains and horrific wounds covering his body, silent for a long time.
He wanted to live.
Of course he wanted to live.
He'd held onto a pathetic fantasy that Zoey still felt something for him from the old days, that she wouldn't really go through with killing him.
But each lash had been harder than the last, shattering every illusion.
And he definitely didn't want to die at Alexander's hands.
That would be an even greater humiliation than death itself.
"...What do you want me to do?" He finally looked up, his voice hoarse, the last traces of struggle and doubt in his eyes buried under the desire to survive.
A flash of cold triumph crossed Beatrice's eyes.
"Simple." She stepped back and adjusted her expression. "When I bring them in, all you have to do is admit I'm your girlfriend. Say you did something stupid because we had a fight, you were upset, you'd been drinking, and you acted on impulse."
"Pin all your motives on heartbreak and impulse. Got it?"
"Don't say another word beyond that. Especially don't mention Viper. Don't mention anything about your history with Zoey. Just say you had a one-sided obsession with her and your love turned to hate."
Harold nodded with difficulty.
While they negotiated, the atmosphere in the main hall had grown oppressively tense.