Chapter 287: The Show Begins
Maggie's heart pounded, though she appeared calmer than she felt. She had accepted the situation: Nathael's life hung in the balance, and her own future was uncertain. What was there to fear, even with Timmothy's madness? She didn't want to contemplate the worst, but her reddened eyes met his with unwavering resolve.
Timmothy chuckled softly and tossed the brooch back to her. "If the design of my brooch isn't beautiful," he said deliberately, "I'd be upset."
Maggie caught it, her anxiety easing as she examined the intact brooch. She lowered her eyes, her long lashes casting a shadow, and silently pocketed it. After adjusting her attire, she saw Timmothy's wound was nearly healed. She stood to continue their ascent.
Walking beside her, Timmothy said, "If you deceive me, I'll take Nathael's." His voice held a note of thrill, hinting at unspoken excitement.
Maggie glanced at him, feeling a slight relief. "If it ends up in his hands," she said coldly, "reclaiming it would be quite a feat for you."
His words suggested he didn't intend to kill Nathael. Otherwise, why mention taking something from a corpse? Her mood lightened. "What style do you like?" she softly asked.
Timmothy seemed surprised by her serious question. After a moment, he replied, "The beautiful kind."
Maggie snickered, unable to resist looking at him again. Their eyes met. His pale pupils held a trace of earnestness, like a fawn's, devoid of malice or madness, making everything that had happened seem like a misunderstanding. He seemed like a child throwing a tantrum.
Forty minutes later, they reached the summit of Parbo Hill. The peak was relatively flat, with a moderately old monastery atop it. A thriving banyan tree stood before the monastery. Vendors sold their wares nearby. A lovers' bridge, heavy with sun-bleached, multi-colored locks, stood on one side, near a café offering inexpensive drinks. Few customers were present, allowing the owner to enjoy the quiet.
Maggie considered sending a message to Nathael without attracting attention. Given the winding mountain paths, escape was unlikely. Even if she did escape, finding help would take an uncertain amount of time—a waste of precious moments. For now, aside from the vendors and the café owner, there seemed to be no other hope.
Timmothy approached and said gently, "Nathael's men are attempting to break into the factory."
Maggie frowned. "You left your men at the factory?" she asked.
He smiled. "How else would Nathael believe you're inside?"
Inside the monastery, the scent of burning candles filled the air. The atmosphere was serene and peaceful. Maggie stood before a towering statue, her eyes red-rimmed. She didn't light a candle, but clasped her hands together, gazing at the statue for a long time before closing her eyes. She prayed that if any divine beings watched over the world, they would protect Nathael. She would gladly trade her life for his.
Tears welled in Maggie's eyes. Nathael had done nothing wrong; it was always her fault. If punishment was necessary, she was ready to take his place.
After lighting a candle, Timmothy returned. "What wish did you make?" he asked.
With a cold glint in her eyes, Maggie gazed at the statue and softly replied, "Is it hard to guess?"
"You know you're dying; why drag my cousin into this? Better to part ways now and live happily apart," Timmothy said slowly, the faint scent of sandalwood emanating from him, his voice deep and resonant.
Maggie stared at him inquisitively. "What do you want from me?"
With a light chuckle, Timmothy's eyes fixed on Maggie. "Nothing much," he said in a low voice, "just what he has. I want it too."
Maggie's chest tightened.
Timmothy looked straight at her, maliciously adding, "I want to destroy everything he loves."
Maggie's hand clenched. She should have stabbed that dagger into his heart earlier, instead of merely marking his face.
Timmothy smiled. "The show starts now." He turned and walked toward a room in the monastery, Maggie following.
Inside the simply furnished room, Timmothy had someone bring a tablet. He placed it before Maggie. Minutes later, she clearly saw the situation outside the factory. Alex and Nolan, each leading a team, infiltrated the factory through the windows. Nathael's back was to the camera.
Soon, intense gunfire erupted. The camera couldn't capture everything, but Maggie saw the chaos unfolding inside, both sides locked in combat. She was deeply worried, not only about the uncertain outcome but also about the lurking danger of an explosion that could kill everyone.
Maggie strained to see Nathael, but the dust and quick movements obscured her view. Then, a commotion erupted outside the monastery. Maggie glanced up. The window was half-open, but from her position, she couldn't see what was happening.
Timmothy remained calm, flipping through a book. He sighed heavily. "He found us."
Maggie froze, a tightness in her throat. She stood to rush outside, but Toby and a mercenary stopped her. She calmed slightly, but her eyes involuntarily drifted toward the monastery, turning red. The person in the surveillance video wasn't Nathael—he had seen through Timmothy's scheme!
Toby's phone rang. He entered the room, handed it to Timmothy, and reported, "Mr. Nathael's call."
Timmothy calmly answered. "Hello, Nathael."
The receiver's voice was low and stern, filled with unspoken anger. "Timmothy, before I lose my temper, release her immediately!"
Timmothy slowly raised his eyes. The tablet now showed the chapel. "Sure," he replied.
On the screen, Nathael stood alone before several tall statues, his posture upright. Mercenaries aimed their guns at him; his men aimed at them. Two groups faced off, tensions high, on the brink of conflict.
(Let's Start All Over Again, Shal – This appears to be a separate note and not part of the chapter.)