After he finished confessing to his crime, the priest continued calmly, âNext is the last one, and also the most important person in confession.
â
Without him saying who it was, everyone already had a feeling about the identity of the culprit as they all looked towards Darian standing next to the coffin.
The irritation brewing inside Darian was palpable, surging like a teapot on the brink of spewing steam.
He was caught off guard by Theodoreâs elaborate scheme, aimed at nothing but dragging his dignity through the dirt.
Driven by fury, Darianâs voice rang out.
âDamn it, Theodore! You are going to hell!â
âBang!â In a split second, a gunshot echoed, a bullet embedding itself just next to Darianâs foot.
Gasps of shock and shrieks of fear filled the air.
Startled, Ariana shifted her gaze to the shooter.
It was Horace who had fired the shot.
Darian paled at the audacity of the act, his forehead glistening with cold beads of sweat.
He looked taken aback, but quickly mastered his features, leveling a stern glare at Theodore.
His voice was biting when he asked, âWhat are you up to? Iâm your father! Are you planning to murder your own father? Donât you fear the curses thatâll haunt you?â
The word âfatherâ seemed like a joke coming from Darianâs Lips, making Theodore smirk.
Darian was the Last person who should wield that title.
Theodore locked eyes with Darian, and the coldness in his gaze sent a shiver down Darianâs spine.
He signaled Horace to retreat with a casual wave of his hand.
âIâm not going to kill you,â he chuckled, âThatâs too simple.
But if you donât cooperate, I canât promise where the next bullet will Land.
â
Darian could only seethe in silent fury.
His stare bore into Theodore, his skin turning a sickly shade of white.
His fingers twitched uncontrollably in his rising ire.
In response, Theodore subtly motioned to his bodyguard.
Stepping forward, the bodyguard manhandled Darian, forcing him to kneel in front of the coffin.
âs
The priest stood before him, brandishing a cross and murmuring solemn prayers.
âMerciful Father, guide the wayward Darian from the abyss of sin with your divine compassion, let Darian, the sinnerââ
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âEnough!â Darian cut off his prayer, his mouth twitching with barely restrained irritation.
He couldnât bear it.
He attempted to free himself from the grip of the bodyguard, but to no avail.
With an upward glance, he shouted, âThe Anderson Group is mine.
I am the head of the Anderson family! What audacity to treat me so!
Youâre all lunatics! I am the master of the Anderson family! You are all traitors!â
His enraged yells echoed in the room when abruptly, the chill of a gun barrel pressed into the back of his skull, cutting him off.
Shock froze him in place.
âIâm not blessed with infinite patience, nor time to squander on you.
â
Theodoreâs voice was cold as ice as his finger lingered over the gunâs safety catch.