"Lan Singh, why are you here?"

William Guillen, wearing homewear, with a scruffy beard and a face full of fatigue, his eyes were bloodshot from the long time of not closing them, terrifyingly crimson.

Lan Singh pressed the corner of his mouth, quickly stepped forward, and grabbed his collar, "Edward Benson, I think your brain’s been soaked with water!"

Edward Benson’s body swayed as his collar was grabbed, choking his neck, his facial color flushed red, "Lan, you..."

"Don’t you know why I’m here? You’re really something, offering your brother’s life with both hands for Isla Stanley. Should I feel ashamed for you, or pitiful for Thomas Shannon? You tell me!"

After understanding the whole story, Lan Singh could hardly believe that he went to such lengths for Isla Stanley.

Has he forgotten who accompanied him through the moments when he was in utter pain, on the verge of death?

Has he forgotten who was always cheering him on during those darkest days, giving him hope, sparking some hope back into his life?

Biting the hand that feeds you!

After Isla Stanley’s first assassination attempt on Thomas Shannon failed, in order to save a woman, he did not hesitate to use years of friendship as a bargaining chip to get Thomas Shannon to release Isla Stanley.

The second time was even more ridiculously laughable!

He actually believed Isla Stanley’s words, thinking she had completely realized her mistake and had given up on the assassination mission. Not only was he defenseless against her, but he also dared to brazenly take her to have a meal with Thomas Shannon.

If Thomas Shannon hadn’t been smart enough to be prepared early on, his memorial service would have already started by now.

Absolutely crazy!

For a woman, treating his brothers who were like parts of his own body this way, is it worth it?

Lan Singh was truly angry, he roared in a low voice, "Edward Benson, speak!"

Edward Benson’s eyes were dull, like a pool of dead water, without waves and fluctuations, "I have nothing to say, everything you said is true."

He couldn’t defend himself, a mistake is a mistake.

"For a woman, is it worth it I ask you?"

Edward Benson let out a bitter chuckle, his eyes reddening, "It’s not someone else, it’s Isla Stanley... she’s my life..."

"Your life is life, isn’t Thomas’s life a life too?! Do you know, if Isla Stanley succeeded this time, it wouldn’t just be her who’d die, it would be you too!"

Edward Benson took a deep breath and closed his eyes, "I know... I’m sorry to Thomas, all of this is my fault."

"Of course it’s your fault!"

Lan Singh let go of him, clenched his fist tightly, then loosened it, several times wanting to punch him, but seeing his lifeless, dejected face, he put down his fist.

He raised a hand, unbuttoned two shirt buttons, exhaled a long breath of turbid air, and sat down on the sofa.

Agitated, he kicked the tea table, "Where’s the wine, bring the wine!"

Edward Benson’s voice was hoarse, carrying endless exhaustion, "I will get it for you."

After bringing the wine, Lan Singh drank in silence, while Edward Benson sat in front of him, saying nothing.

The desperate, lifeless eyes, revealed their deathly stillness, devoid of any vitality.

Slam.

Lan Singh slammed the wine glass loudly on the tea table, making a crisp sound, he stared at Edward Benson without blinking, "Do you have nothing to say?"

"I have nothing to say." Edward Benson was unable to defend himself, all of this was his fault.

From beginning to end, it was all his fault.