Chapter 170: The Willful Child

"Ronald, from the moment I first met you, I knew exactly what you were thinking."

Frank struggled to get up from the ground, shaking off Alan's attempt to help him. With great effort, he finally managed to stand and slowly made his way to the wheelchair.

"I think you've forgotten what you said to me the first time we met. Obey me, follow me, change the world." Ronald stared at Frank, speaking seriously.

Frank paused, then nodded. "Do you know when I first wanted to rebel against you? The night you sent Laura to sleep with another man."

Ronald glanced back at Laura, who stood at the edge of the rooftop. She hadn't said a word or looked their way the entire time. Just like before, she seemed cold and detached from everything. To outsiders, she appeared to be a madwoman—one moment extremely silent and slow, like someone with severe autism, and the next, a fiery, ruthless, ambitious person.

In his years of political life, Ronald understood well that people were complex creatures, their personalities a sum of many desires and inner views. But this sum wasn't a precise number; it was an abstract concept. Laura was no different.

In Laura's world, only theater could spark her interest. Ronald knew this and used it to his advantage, making Laura obedient to him. But now, it seemed he had miscalculated. For him, the betrayals of Mike, Frank, Tom, Joseph, and Alan were all within his expectations. But Laura had hidden her relationship with Douglas, her brother, all these years. This woman had buried her immense hatred and anger deep within.

He wondered if Laura had been pretending all along. Her act of sleeping with another man had accelerated his career at a crucial point, and he was pleased with her sacrifice and the results. He tolerated her wild and mad behavior because of this, not out of love, but because everyone took care of their useful tools.

Now, his faith was shaken. He had used Laura's act to provoke Frank, hoping to see Laura's reaction. But the relationship between these two was becoming more and more confusing to him.

"No." Frank shook his head and glanced at Laura. Laura tilted her head slightly, seemingly looking their way.

"From the moment I first saw you, my instinct was to resist. Following you, obeying you—where is my freedom? Where is my right to choose? Your desire to control us means you will bring us more disaster."

Frank looked at Ronald with contempt, his body trembling.

"The seed of hatred was planted in my heart long ago. You took away our freedom, our rights as human beings. You controlled my life, even my existence, but you can't control my heart, my desires, or my destiny. You are delusional! Alan was right. People who think they're gods never end well. You're no different. You can't escape history, curses, or your own cowardice and baseness. Look at me, Ronald. Do you really have everything under control today?"

Ronald laughed, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He lit it with a snap, took a deep drag, and exhaled a long plume of smoke that mingled with the rising smoke from below.

For a moment, he seemed lost, but quickly regained his composure. He walked towards us with his hands behind his back. I noticed he was wearing tall rubber boots, like a farmer who had just come from the fields, looking at his ungrateful son with no joy or sorrow, calculating how to communicate.

As he approached, Alan and I instinctively stepped forward, shielding Frank. 

I didn't know why I did it. Frank had hidden so much from me, and Alan had been imprisoned for months. I shouldn't have felt any goodwill towards him. But as Ronald came closer, Alan and I both stepped forward.

Alan glanced at me and smiled, as if unsurprised.

I returned the smile. "Step aside."

Frank's voice was hoarse. He sighed and softened his tone.

"I don't want to live in shame. Alan, step aside. Nancy, I may have deceived you, but for old times' sake, step back. Let me face him. I've waited twenty years for this day."

Alan and I stepped back.

Ronald crouched down, gently patted Frank's leg, and looked up at his pale, dust-covered face. He wiped the dirt from Frank's face, appearing to outsiders like a father tenderly looking at his son, unaware of the deadly enmity between them.

"Your speech was good. I'm not angry. This is my tolerance and love for you. Rebellious children always receive more parental tolerance, don't they? I'm the same. What I mean is, your speech was like a child's desperate cry for parental approval. It won't work. Parents don't yield because their child's words make sense; they yield because they see their child's desperate cries and feel pity. They say, 'Alright, alright, I agree." Ronald smiled, looking at Frank seriously.

"Do you want me to admit defeat?"

Frank suddenly coughed up blood, hitting the wheelchair but unable to speak.

"Ronald, that's enough!" I said calmly.

"Oh? Ms. Johnson, what do you have to say?"

Ronald tilted his head, smirking.

I looked at Ronald, my gaze steady. His words had the tone of an elder reprimanding Frank. But in reality, he knew Frank well. At this moment, he was ready for a desperate fight, with the intent to kill. He wanted to kill Frank and take everyone down with him.

"Because from the beginning, you miscalculated. Right now, you just want to kill. Killing isn't just done with knives and guns; it's also done by exploiting a person's weaknesses."