Lucy's blade gently cut Kingsley's throat. A bloody mark appeared on his throat, but it was only a superficial wound.
As Kingsley touched it with his hand, Lucy looked at the man in front of her warily. Ten thousand scenes of him being killed appeared in her mind.
She even had a feeling that the man in front of her knew all her killing methods. It was as if he had predicted her actions in advance.
As expected, the rumored head of the Hills was not a simple man. So many people had tried to kill him, but no one had succeeded. In the end, they all died in his hands.
"Come here." Kingsley suddenly said.
Lucy could not help but take a step back.
"Come here. I won't kill you," Kingsley said.
Who would believe that? She had heard too much about how cruel Kingsley was.
"Anyway, you don't have a choice." Kingsley looked at her, his eyes fixed on her.
It felt as though he was not looking at his enemy but his lover.
