The bullet pierced through the thick mattress, right next to his ear, still emitting black smoke. Cecil was utterly terrified.
My throat tightened and I started hiccuping. My eyes were wide open, but I couldn't blink. In the end, tears streamed down my face.
Cole leaned down and pinched Cecil's chin, gently stroking it: "I'll only say it once, listen to me!"
“You…” Cecil’s eyelids trembled, and he involuntarily uttered, “I am the head of the Cretis family! Let me go!”
Cole thought it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard and couldn't help but laugh out loud: "Don't you think there's any credibility to what you're saying?"
Sesil's throat was sore from the choking, and the hiccups he had just suppressed kept coming back up. His stomach was churning with nausea, and he tried to speak but was suppressed by waves of nausea. He opened his mouth but couldn't utter a single word for a long time.
Cole was panting heavily, and his movements became even more unrestrained. The collar of his shirt was torn open, exposing his delicate skin to the air, which seemed to be faintly exuding a fragrance.
"Get out of here!" Sehir stared at Cole with red eyes, his tone unwavering.
But to Cole, these words were undoubtedly a flirtatious remark made during a passionate moment, and Cole gave Cecil's collarbone a hard squeeze.
Whether it was Cole's excessive strength or Cecil's nervousness, in an instant, that patch of skin turned red like a flower petal.
Sehir gritted his teeth, and just as Cole was about to make his next move, the tightly closed door finally opened from the outside.
Cole cursed, turned around and froze. It was as if the entire room had dropped to sub-zero temperatures, and the person standing at the door even had a few drops of blood on him.
Colton paused for a moment, got up and threw Cecil back onto the bed, straightened his clothes, and looked at Isri standing at the door.
"You found it pretty quickly," Cole said with a laugh, unaware of the seriousness of the situation.
After all, in the eyes of the nobles, these slaves were nothing more than toys for amusement; if they got dirty, they could simply be replaced.
Isri didn't speak, his amber eyes partially hidden by his bangs that reached past his forehead. Just a second before Cole opened his mouth, Isri rushed over and punched Cole to the ground.
Before Cole could react, Isri grabbed Cole by the collar and then punched him again. After two punches, blood started flowing from the corner of Cole's mouth, and bruises appeared on the side of his face.
Suddenly, Cole accidentally met Isri's gaze, those dark eyes staring at him as if he were dead.
His black hair appeared even darker in the dim room, and his thin lips were tightly closed into a thin line, making him look like a demon descended from hell.
Cole, still seemingly unwilling to admit defeat, raised the corners of his lips slightly and chuckled, "Does His Excellency the Duke care so much about this toy?"
Isri's eyes grew colder, and he clenched his fist and punched Cole in the face again. Cole was also unhappy and reached out to try to pin Isri down.
Isri had already seen through Cole's movements and grabbed Cole's hand in advance, twisting it forcefully.
"Aaaaaah!" A violent scream escaped from Cole's mouth.
The next second, Isri grabbed Cole by the hair, lifted him up, and then slammed him hard to the ground without any mercy.
Chapter Forty-Nine
With a loud "bang," Cole's forehead slammed hard against the ground, and instantly, a streak of bright red blood flowed down his side, connecting to his hairline.
Cole let out a muffled groan, his other, still-functioning hand still trying to grab Isri.
Immediately afterwards, the sound of bones shattering and screams filled the room as Cole tore at the top of his lungs.
Isri's eyes grew even colder as he gripped Cole's hair tightly and pulled him up behind him.
With his neck stiffened high, the sound was immediately suppressed at the throat, and Cole could only make whimpering noises.
Cole's face was a mixture of tears and blood, making him look extremely disheveled. Every time he inadvertently met Isri's eyes, Cole would involuntarily shiver.
Isri pressed his knee firmly against Cole's spine, wishing he could break him in two immediately.
Finally, in the room where only screams could be heard, a sound that seemed to have been suppressed for a long time rang out, and Cole felt the air around him grow even colder.
“It will hurt a lot later, it’s up to you whether you can bear it or not,” Sri said.
Isri, who hadn't intended to speak, felt a pang of reluctance to let Cole die so soon the moment he saw him.
After saying that, Isri grabbed Cole's hair again, lifted him up, and slammed him against the corner of the table.
Amidst a fierce scream from Cole, the table was slammed back a meter.
With both of his hands crippled, Cole could only be dragged along by Isri, unable to even put up a simple act of resistance.
A drop of blood slid down the corner of the table, and the room, which was originally filled with a disgusting smell, slowly became filled with the stench of blood.
A red glint flashed in Isri's eyes, and veins bulged across the back of his porcelain-white hands. His shirt was also slightly disheveled.
After what had just happened, Cole was practically on the verge of death, but Isri seemed oblivious, grabbing Cole's hair and continuing to slam him against the corner of the table.
"Isri!"
With a sudden thud, Isri's hand froze in mid-air; the corner of the table was less than a centimeter from Cole's head.
Isri turned around and looked at Ceshir on the bed. Ceshir was also surprised when he saw Isri.
The gentleness that once filled those eyes had vanished without a trace, replaced by endless carnage.
That flawless face, still smeared with disgusting blood, was laid bare before Cecil.
"Stop, Isri!" Ceshir, suppressing the nausea in his stomach, opened his mouth again: "Don't kill him, it'll cause trouble."
Sehir tried to keep his voice steady, as if he were comforting a frantic child.
This was the first time he had ever seen Isri like this; he was like a wolf fighting in the snow, tearing apart its prey without regard for anything else.
Isri paused for a few seconds, his eyes returning to normal. After tossing the person aside, he straightened his clothes.
Isri took the keys from the table, walked over to Cesil, and spoke with a tone of deep self-reproach.
"I'm sorry, young master, I'm late."
Sehir was holding back the tears that kept welling up in his eyes. Just a few seconds ago, what would have happened to him if Isri hadn't come?
He dared not think about it.
The gunshots that filled my ears hadn't faded yet, and the strings in my head were snapping and breaking.
The person who rushed in through the door seemed to have given him a second chance at life, but why did it have to be Isri?
He clearly wanted to leave Isri, so why was he thinking about Isri at this moment?
Sehir couldn't figure out what he was thinking or what he really wanted right now.
Still trying to run?
-
Isri gently lifted the man from the bed and straightened his disheveled collar. Only then did Ceshir come to his senses. The faint woody scent emanating from Isri calmed him down slightly.
“Isri,” Sehir called out.
"I'm here, young master."
"Take me...back," Sehir said, his voice trembling with undisguised sobs.
He suddenly felt extremely wronged and wanted to hug something and cry his heart out, but this thing was definitely not Isri, and he didn't want Isri to see him like this.
Isri sensed something, and slowly raised his hand to gently stroke Cesil's still trembling back, his voice soft.
"I'm here, don't be afraid."
Sehir grabbed Isri's clothes, suddenly overwhelmed by an unprecedented sense of shame.
Although there is a huge height difference between me and Isri, I am at least grown up now. Being carried around like this makes me feel like a baby who has not been weaned.
As soon as Isri reached the door, Sehir looked up and said, "You should put me down."
Even with his head held high, Ceshir turned his head away, avoiding eye contact with Isri, his face flushed red all the way to his ears.
Just as Isri was about to say something to Ceshir, a boy suddenly ran up to him, staring at Isri with wide, terrified eyes.
"Are you...are you alright?" the boy asked, swallowing hard.
He knew Cole's methods, and the boy was also taken aback when he saw that Isri and Cecil were both safe and sound.
Isri simply hummed in agreement and listened to Ceshir's instructions as he placed the person back on the ground.
Seeing that Isri's hands were empty, the boy quickly handed the clothes draped over his arm to Isri.
"Your clothes are washed." The boy bent down and quickly opened his mouth. As soon as Isri took the clothes, the boy turned around and ran away without a trace.
Isri shook the clothes in his hands, turned around and leaned slightly to drape them over Ceshir, then fastened two buttons on the chest.
Wrapped in Isri's coat, Sehir looked even smaller.
-
The ground outside was covered with a thin layer of snow, and the air was even colder than when they went in. Cecil looked at Isri, who was only wearing a single shirt, and finally took off the coat that was draped over his own shoulders.
"Aren't you cold?" Cecil asked, opening his mouth. "You should wear it."
Isri looked at the coat handed to him and chuckled, "You can wear this, I'm not cold."
Sesil shivered as he took off his coat; the snowflakes seemed to be falling even harder.
To avoid arousing suspicion, the carriage was parked in a relatively far place, still quite a distance away.
Sehir impatiently threw the clothes at Isri, his tone hardening slightly: "This is my order!"
As he spoke, he walked past Isri and headed forward. Isri, holding his coat, watched Ceshir walk away and finally loosened his tightly clenched fist, a meaningful smile curving his eyes.
His god seemed a little dirty.
Chapter Fifty
Isri put his coat back on, finally regaining some warmth, and Ceshir fell asleep as soon as he got into the carriage.
In order not to wake Ceshir, Isri drove the carriage very slowly, taking twice as long as usual to get back.
When I got home, the huge moon hung in the sky, surrounded by a pale blue hue, which seemed out of place with the snow-covered clouds.
Sehir got off the carriage in a daze, startled by the cold air outside. Only after his mind was completely clear did he start walking back.
Isri followed behind without saying a word. As Ceshir went upstairs, he suddenly seemed to realize something.
When they returned to the room, Cecil casually said, "Go and prepare hot water."
Islam understood immediately, turned around and went into the bathroom. A moment later, a surge of heat came out of it.
Sehir was still afraid that Isri might do something, and was about to say that he could come, but Isri spoke first.
"Young Master, I'll be waiting for you outside."