Chapter 15
The moonlight lightly flickered through the drifting clouds. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.
At the Barlow mansion, the luxurious foyer was brightly lit by an expensive crystal chandler. Anderson, who was a night owl, was seated at the bar counter.
Clad in a black shirt and red vest, he poured himself a glass of red wine and gently swirled it around. His charming face was perfectly reflected in the mirror on the nearby wine cabinet.
With a tilt of his head, Anderson downed the glass of wine in one go. Placed right beside him was a document that contained the information of the people involved in the kidnapping and bombing accident years ago.
Anderson was born into wealth. His mother was from a prestigious family involved in the jewelry business, and he was from a long line of intellectuals.
His mother and father were brought together through an arranged marriage, and shortly after their union, he was born. Anderson was the one and only heir of the Barlow family.
When he was thirteen, he accompanied his mother to their ancestral home in Somerdale. However, they were hit with a sudden explosion that night and Anderson was forced to witness his mother's death.
He was later taken hostage and had his life hanging on a thin thread. Lucky for him, when he was on the way back to Belchester City, the van he was in met with a chain collision and he was able to narrowly escape.
He was later rescued by a cab driver, who was none other than Mayra's biological father, James Sadler. When he first arrived at the Sandler household, Mayra was only one year old.
At that time, Anderson was unaware of who his enemies were and thus chose to hide his real identity. For years, he lived and hid at the Sandler residence.
However, their peace was short-lived. James and his wife were tragically killed in a car crash, leaving Mayra, who was only five years old at the time.
They eventually had no choice but to live in an orphanage. Anderson initially planned to leave Mayra behind at the orphanage…
However, the moment he saw her crying and begging him not to leave, Anderson's heart immediately softened. Reluctantly, he chose to stay by her side.
Years quickly flew by, and in a blink of an eye, eleven years had passed. Mayra was now no longer the same little girl and had grown into a beautiful young lady.
Just when everyone in the Barlow family thought Anderson had died, he officially returned when he turned 25. His return wasn't merely for the Barlow family's inheritance, but because he wanted to uncover who the killer was…
The explosion at the Manchester residence had taken the lives of 45 people! The document that was placed beside Anderson contained the list of individuals responsible for that incident.
Currently, only a small portion of them had been identified, and there were still several sneaky bastards roaming around freely...
When the antique clock on the wall struck 12, several black cars arrived at the mansion. Shane stepped out from one of them, his bodyguards following suit.
They escorted three men who had black hoods over their heads. Their hands were tied up and their lips were sealed. None of them could utter a single word.
Shane walked into the foyer and stood behind Anderson. With his head lowered, he reported, "Mr. Barlow, the three people who have been identified have been brought over safely."
Anderson poured himself another glass of red wine. With a hint of intoxication in his eyes, he watched as the red liquid swirled in the glass. "Have they all confessed?"
Shane nodded. "Yes. They admitted to being involved in the explosion at the Manchester villa. However, they claim that they don't know who the mastermind is."
Anderson waved his hand dismissively. Shane immediately understood and turned around to leave. Not long after, chilling screams echoed through the Barlow mansion.
One of the captured men managed to tear open the tape on his mouth and cried, "Mr. Barlow, my family was in dire straits back then. We had no choice but to do it for the money. We were just following orders. If it weren't for our families, we would have never done such things."
He begged, "Please, I beg you. It's already been so many years. Please spare me! I'll do whatever you want!"
In the luxurious mansion, Anderson strode out of the foyer, exuding a menacing aura. With dark eyes, he said lowly, "Spare you? The explosion that happened at the Machester residence 15 years ago took the lives of 45 people. If you want me to spare you, why don't you go to hell and ask them if they agree?"
Anderson stood before the man, looking at him with cold eyes.
Realizing that there was no turning back, the man suddenly stood up and laughed maniacally. "That's right. I was the one who did it. Not only did I kill those people, I even raped a 14-year-old girl.
"Her skin was so fair and she was so tight. It was truly such a pleasurable experience. How I wish I could experience it again. Let me tell you, even if I have to die, I won't be at a loss! At least I'll have others dying with me!"
As the man spoke, Anderson's eyes darkened. He looked at the man as if he were looking at a dead man. Anderson signaled to his men, and soon a woman and a young girl were brought to the scene.
The man who had been brazenly defiant before suddenly paled. "You monster, don't you dare touch my family! They're innocent! Let them go!
"Mr. Barlow, I was wrong. My actions were unforgivable. My wife and daughter are both deaf. They're innocent. Please spare them. I'm begging you! I'm willing to turn myself in. I'll trade my life for theirs!"
The man desperately grabbed onto Anderson's pants, only to be ruthlessly kicked away. "When the girl you raped begged for mercy, did you ever consider sparing her?"
He sneered. "Don't worry. Once you're dead, I'll send them to join you. After all, a life for a life!"
Anderson reached out and the bodyguard who was standing nearby placed a bat in his hands. With a swing of the bat, blood splattered all over Anderson's face, but he didn't even flinch.
Only when the man lying on the ground was barely breathing did Anderson come to a halt. He threw away the bat and ordered, "Get rid of them!"
A few loud bangs pierced the quiet night before everything fell silent again.
…
At around 2:00 a.m., Mayra finally returned home. This was the first time she had returned home so late.
After finishing the skewers with Gordan, the both of them headed to a nearby night market for a stroll. The snacks she was carrying were bought by Gordan.
As she entered the house with the snacks in hand, she turned on the lights and was instantly met with a bloodied man sitting on the couch. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest.
She immediately dropped the bag of snacks and ran over to the man worriedly. "Andy…what happened? Are you hurt?"
Cradling his face in her hands, Mayra's hand quivered as she gently wiped the blood from his face. "Andy…what on earth happened?"