Chapter 7: The Weapon
A loud bang shattered the stillness of the early morning as a bullet shot from Frederick’s gun, heading straight for Claire! Claire smiled at the approaching bullet and closed her eyes. She knew Frederick hated her deeply and had imagined him using all sorts of methods to torture her. But she never expected that one day, he would personally shoot her. She thought, “Finally, it would all be over.”
But the pain she anticipated didn’t come. At the last moment, Frederick twisted his aim. Blood splattered from one of Arthur’s men behind her, who collapsed to the ground. In the chaos, Frederick seized the moment to pull Claire behind him. Frederick kept his gun raised, and with a single glance, his men surrounded Arthur. Tension filled the air, thick with the smell of gunpowder.
“Frederick, what are you doing? You’ve scared her. Alright, I’ve returned her to you. It’s getting late, and I need to get to work.” Arthur, seeing himself encircled, darkened his gaze but forced a laugh. Arthur knew he had lost this round. Though unwilling, he had no choice but to leave. What had been a deadly confrontation ended as a mere jest in Arthur’s eyes.
Claire watched Arthur walk away, trembling uncontrollably as she stood behind Frederick. A drop of blood from Arthur’s man had splattered on her face. In an instant, the memories of the warm blood she once felt in prison surged back. Just moments ago, she had almost tasted her own blood.
Leaving Halfmoon Manor, Arthur was visibly upset. “Mr. Hawthorne, we had such a rare opportunity, and now it’s gone,” his secretary muttered discontentedly. “Gone? No, this is just the beginning. I’ve found something even more interesting,” Arthur sneered, glancing back at the manor. His eyes gleamed with malice and triumph as he recalled what had just happened.
Back at Halfmoon Manor, Claire stared in shock at the tall figure in front of her. She thought, “Frederick had actually saved me?” Just a moment ago, she truly believed Frederick would shoot her without hesitation. Claire looked up at his broad back and the crisp, short hair. Her heart raced uncontrollably.
“What? Touched that I saved you?” Frederick turned around, smirking as he leaned closer to her car. “Claire, I don’t care about your pathetic life. I just don’t want to lose to my brother. Besides, the women I care about tend to die quickly, don’t they?” The wild beating of her heart suddenly stopped as if a hand had gripped it hard, leaving Claire breathless and speechless. “And from this moment on, you won’t have any more chances to escape.” Frederick glanced at the trembling Claire on the ground and ordered, “From today, Ms. Prescott will live here. Remember, Ms. Prescott is not here to enjoy herself. She’s here to pay her debt!”
By the time Claire came back to her senses, Frederick was already gone. Soon, she was arranged to stay in the basement of Halfmoon Manor. The room was filled with various clutter, all covered in dust. Amid the piles of junk, there was a single bed, about 3.2 feet wide, with nothing but a wooden board. It was unclear where this bed had come from. Even the servants of the Halfmoon Manor slept in better conditions. But to her, this was already an improvement. The four years she spent in prison were far more unbearable than this. Many people crammed into one room, the air mixed with the stench of the toilet and the constant chaos and occasional scent of blood. Every day, she faced arguments, beatings, and bullying. Now, even if it was a basement, at least it was a room of her own. As for the clutter, she could tidy it up. It wasn’t so bad.
Claire knew she couldn’t escape this time. Frederick would not give her another chance. She glanced around the messy basement and began to clean. Frederick, meanwhile, spent the entire day busy at the Security Department. Having just taken over the Kingstown Security Department, there were naturally many things to handle. It wasn’t until he finished his work that he thought of Claire.
He picked up the phone and called his aide, Richard Parker. “How’s Claire doing?” “Sir, Ms. Prescott has been cleaning the basement all day,” Richard replied. “No crying, no trouble?” Frederick frowned at Richard’s reply. Claire, the high and mighty heiress, would cause a ruckus even in a slightly less luxurious hotel, let alone in a basement. He still remembered the first time he, Claire, and Harrison went on a trip together. It was a holiday, and the hotels were fully booked. They couldn’t get a five-star hotel, so they stayed at a four-star. The moment they arrived, Claire complained about the hard bed and dirty environment. He thought, “Now, she is obediently staying in a basement?” “No, Ms. Prescott didn’t even eat. She’s been busy in the basement all day,” Richard replied respectfully. “Alright, I see.” Frederick sneered, hanging up the phone. He thought, “Four years in prison hadn’t been for nothing. It seemed she had grown, learned to be cunning and to act. Good! In that case, I would give her plenty of chances to act!”
At seven in the evening, after Claire had finished cleaning the entire room, she couldn’t find anything useful. The winter cold was biting, and all she had was a hard wooden bed and a few rags. It might be bearable during the day, but it would be freezing at night. She thought about asking the butler for some blankets, but as she turned around, she saw Frederick leaning against the door.