Chapter 691

Chapter 691

“I'm sorry, I can't control her," Franklin replied crisply, his icy eyes

seemed filled with countless shards of ice. Chaz felt like he was falling

into an abyss, chilled to the bone. Franklin's message was clear: he

didn't want to be involved and was supporting Sylvia's actions.

They had to play along even if they didn't want to.

"Mr. Gamble, look at Mr. Santana's courage! If you didn't know any

better, you'd think I'm sending him to the guillotine!" Sylvia drawled

slowly.

Harold saw Sylvia looking at him with a hint of a smirk on her lips. "Stop

delaying time; it's just one shot," Sylvia said calmly as she threw her

gun in front of Harold.

Almost everyone jumped when they saw how quickly she tossed the

gun towards Harold.

Especially Justice and his crew who were staring white-faced at Harold

holding that gun, afraid that he would shoot his own head!

Harold looked at the gun in his hand and turned pale; no one had

enough courage for suicide - especially those who held power and

money like them!

The world is full of temptations; why would anyone choose death?

Though he reluctantly accepted this bet.

Sylvia taunted him, "Mr. Gamble, are you going to back out now?"

This man looked good enough with plenty of charisma but lacked

bravery! Since they dared bully Franklin, they gotta pay the price.

Hearing Sylvia's voice made Harold tremble as he reached out for the

gun before slowly raising it towards his temple...

He couldn't bring himself to say anything or ask Sylvia for mercy; fear

choked him up inside! As Middle East's youngest minister with military

power under his belt, how could he beg a woman not to kill him?

If something like this happened, how could he face the President or all

those people under him?

Harold gritted his teeth and kept telling himself in his mind, “I won't fail.

I can't be that unlucky. I will definitely be able to avoid it."

Even though he kept comforting himself inside, he just couldn't pull the

trigger.

Who can do this?

Sweat began to seep out of the palm of his hand holding the gun.

"Mr. Gamble... If you really can't continue, why don't you just give us

the island?" Sylvia smirked and leaned in close to Harold, with an evil

glint in her eyes.

The man's black eyes stared at her in surprise, noticing that the woman

in front of him had skin as fair and smooth as milk, without any visible

pores or blemishes.

Such a woman... so stunningly beautiful.

At least he shouldn't be looked down upon by this woman!

Everyone stared at Sylvia in disbelief.

This woman... How can she be so arrogant?

Did she really force Harold to beg for mercy?

She actually forced Harold to give the island.

Harold's face turned gloomy for a moment, and his heart instantly

became cold and heavy.

But he just doesn't want to be looked down upon by Sylvia.

Justice swallowed hard and looked at Harold, whose face was pale with

distress.

New energy project was profitable, so it was always under his

management before, but Harold and Chaz took it away from him. The

two ministers probably thought Franklin was easy to deal with since he

didn't hold any position in H Rovirsa, but they forgot that the influence

of MI6 in H Rovirsa could not be ignored at all.

Justice wondered if they regretted having provoked Franklin.

Sylvia raised an eyebrow and looked at the silent Harold. "What's

wrong? It's been so long... Aren't you able to do it, are you? Or should I

help you?"

Harold's face looked extremely unpleasant.

With rage inside his chest, he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger.

The moment he did so, everyone widened their eyes, and Chaz

couldn't help but whisper, "Mr. Gamble!"

Many of Harold's subordinates also clenched their fists, staring at

Harold in disbelief.

This was an absolutely deadly gamble.

If Harold had not died, the island would still belong to MI6.

If Harold as unfortunately shot and killed, then... MI6 won't need that

island anymore.

So... what the result was, Harold wouldn't gain any advantage.

Click.

The air seemed to be thick and heavy.

He didn't die...

He didn't get shot...

He was lucky...

He didn't know whether to be grateful or bitter.

Because he didn't die, the island would have to belong to MI6.