"So, are you here to play the persuader? Afraid I’ll affect the relationship between Kyle and Mabel Quinn?" Francine Howards said coldly.
Dorian Howards smiled helplessly, "These words aren’t for Kyle, they’re for you. After all, you’re my cousin; do you think I’d really let you rush into fire without pulling you back?"
As he spoke, Dorian flipped open the lighter in his hand, instantly producing a brilliant flame. "Francine, this fire is beautiful, isn’t it? The beauty of the flame can be mesmerizing, but it’s better to observe it from afar. Getting too close will only burn you. I thought you would understand such a simple truth."
"But I’ve never handed over anything I like to someone else!" Francine responded.
Dorian closed the lighter, "Affection isn’t about giving or not giving; it’s about choice. It’s about who Kyle chooses. You and I both know how persistent the Kinston Family can be when it comes to love, having seen it firsthand. It’s said the Kinston Family is one of deep devotion. Once they fall in love, it never changes... regardless of whether they’re loved in return or not."
Francine’s face finally changed, "Kyle... won’t be like his father, won’t..." Her lips trembled, and she found herself unable to continue.
"Won’t be like his father, who went mad for someone and then committed suicide?" Dorian continued her thought, "Well, let me tell you, if one day, Mabel Quinn really leaves Kyle, he will certainly follow his father’s path."
Because Mabel Quinn is Kyle’s lifeline!
Unfortunately, Francine doesn’t know about the Kinston Family’s Blood Curse, and he doesn’t plan to tell her. He himself only came to know about the curse by accident, and about the monthly pain Kyle endured.
For his friend Kyle, he felt sympathy and respect. The hardships Kyle had faced were unimaginable for most people, and for him to persist and uphold the entire Kinston Family required immense perseverance and ability. He hoped Kyle could truly find happiness and avoid repeating the Kinston Family’s tragedy.
The color drained from Francine’s face, and she pressed her lips together, unwilling to say another word.
After Dorian left, Francine picked up her phone and dialed a number.
In the punishment hall of the East Bamboo Assembly, cries of anguish filled the air as a traitor was being dealt with. The man known as the Assembly’s president sat in a chair, lazily watching through a large glass window, as if he were watching a boring film rather than a bloody and tragic scene.
He was a man in his thirties, with narrow, deep-set eyes, a straight aquiline nose, and sensual thin lips. If one judged solely by appearance, he could pass as a top urban executive rather than the feared president of the East Bamboo Assembly.
Suddenly, the phone rang. He took out the phone and, seeing the caller ID, a faint smile appeared on the corners of his lips.
"It’s rare for you to contact me outright," the man said as he pressed the answer key.
"I want you to do me a favor," Francine’s voice came through the phone.
"A favor? Could it be there’s something the Howards Family can’t handle?" the man asked with interest.
With her cousin holding things down on the Howard’s front, she couldn’t mobilize any resources. "This is my personal matter, unrelated to the Howards Family. Just tell me one thing, will you help or not?"