Chapter 209 Her Life Is in His Hands, Isn't She Afraid?
Alvin looked at William slowly getting up over there, sadness in his eyes.
"Got any alcohol?" Alvin asked.
William didn't answer. Instead, he pressed the bell at his bedside.
Soon, a servant came over.
"Mr. Brown."
"Go get some bottles of wine," William said to the servant while wiping his mouth that kept bleeding. "There's some in the wine cellar."
Alvin looked at the servant and named a few wines.
The servant glanced at William, who nodded, then went to get them.
Alvin watched William keep wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He curled his lip in disgust, grabbed a pack of tissues from a nearby table and tossed it over.
Neither of them spoke while waiting for the wine.
Alvin looked out the huge floor-to-ceiling window at the beautiful garden scenery outside.
It looked quite pleasant.
Remembering this was Amelia and William's marital home, Alvin curled his lip again in anger.
Why?
William and York both got to be with her, but not him!
Thinking about it made his heart ache.
The servant had brought the wine and left.
Alvin took a big gulp of red wine and asked, "After you guys returned home that year, how long did she take to recover?"
William lowered his eyes slightly, remembering what happened that year.
Amelia covered in blood, and the way she looked when she cried in agony—his heart ached faintly too.
"Over a month," William finally said. "After that, her health was never good."
Alvin nodded and took another drink.
The whole room was quiet. Finally, Alvin spoke up.
"Originally, that contract wasn't going to get signed."
William's brows furrowed tight, his eyes locking dangerously on Alvin.
Alvin ignored William's gaze and just poured himself another glass.
"You must have heard about my personality back then. So what if you guys at the Brown Group broke through the technology blockade?"
"So what if you could find other partners? Globally, everyone recognizes our company's technology. Other companies are just nobodies."
"Why would I, for no good reason, give up profit to the Brown Group, which was just an up-and-comer back then?"
Alvin laughed mockingly. He swirled the red wine in his glass—the liquid was blood red, looking a lot like the blood on her that day.
"Many people don't get this. They try to get things from me through cooperation, deception, or other means. William, you were the same."
"You guys were thinking win-win cooperation, but me, my family behind me, we were thinking monopoly. When you can have it all yourself, why let someone else take a bite?"
"So when you went with my assistant to print and confirm the contract, I told her."
Alvin looked up at William, whose expression was changing rapidly.
"Though it seemed she'd already thought about me messing with you guys at the last minute. But still, her final decision was made right then and there."
Alvin took another drink, his gaze gradually losing focus, as if returning to that late autumn day in Seraphim many years ago.
That day, by that ice pool, there was only Amelia and him, plus a bunch of his people.
The laws in the two countries were different. Back then, his men really did have blood on their hands.
And to show absolute sincerity, William and Amelia had their bodyguards stay fifty feet away. You could say she was at a complete disadvantage.
In this disadvantage, he told her his plan.
And had his men scare her.
This was his usual sick pleasure—toying with these people, watching the anger and fear on their faces gave him a twisted sense of satisfaction.
Yes, he was that kind of twisted person.
But she just smiled. Even in that cold wind of late autumn, her smile was especially beautiful.
Like the only bright sight in all the faded scenery.
"Mr. Jordan, you prepared two contracts, right?" she said calmly.
He didn't understand what she meant and lifted his chin, signaling her to continue.
"One is the contract we discussed, revised, and finalized this time."
"The other is the contract you're using for your prank."
Amelia lowered her eyes slightly, her long lashes curling up slightly, making her look beautiful.
"I'm guessing you wouldn't want to miss the expression on William's face when your prank succeeds, so you'll have your assistant print both and bring them over."
Back then, she said this to him with a smile, and it was almost exactly his plan.
He wanted to see that expression when the other party got played. What fun would it be if he didn't see it himself?
"So..."
Her face still had that perfect smile, showing no trace of panic.
She said, "Mr. Jordan, let's make a bet."
This surprised him, since usually he was the one who proposed bets.
The usual routine was—
The other party would finalize things with him, then happily go print the contract, come back to find they'd been played, get angry, then he'd suggest they could still salvage things through a bet, the other party would feel a glimmer of hope and agree to bet with him.
Then, if the other party lost the bet, nothing more to say—kick them out like a dog.
If the other party won, that was even more interesting. He'd break the contract right in front of them and say, "Surprise, isn't this fun!"
Watching their expression then was just too entertaining.
Especially after kicking them out, hearing others talk about his "glorious deeds" felt even better.
But this time, the routine was broken.
He asked her then, "So what do you want to bet?"
But she smiled and said, "This is your home turf, Mr. Jordan. I'm proposing the bet, you set the terms. I'll just say, if I win, Mr. Jordan has to sign the cooperation contract we just finalized."
He raised his eyebrows slightly, smiled bloodthirstily, and said, "Then let's bet our lives."
"Do you dare?"
He raised his right hand, lifting the gun in his hand, pointing it at her.
And the dozen or so desperados beside him all raised their guns, all pointing at her.
This was Seraphim, where guns weren't banned, so these were all real guns, still carrying a strong smell of gunpowder.
With just a light pull of the trigger by him or any of his men, her head would explode.
"Woman, you better think carefully. If you don't bet with me, at worst you just don't get the contract signed. But if you lose, you'll lose your life."
"Just like this..."
He made a gun gesture with his other hand, grinning as he mimicked the sound of a gunshot.
But she wasn't scared at all. She didn't even avoid looking at the guns pointed at her by him and his men.
She just nodded lightly and said, "Okay, let's bet our lives then."
Not afraid at all of the dozen guns there, as if this was just the most ordinary thing.
That's when he first really looked at Amelia.
Although during the negotiations, her moves had been quite clever, he hadn't planned to sign anyway, so he didn't care.
But now, her life was in his hands.
Seraphim didn't ban guns. Was she really not afraid?