Masked In Nobility Secrets Of Mrs.Chavez501-600

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Chapter_537
Braydon’s haughty eyes seemed unfocused, filled with dark memories. After a moment lost in thought, he returned to the present, the past tugging at him. He fought to maintain his composure, lifting his gaze to Yvette, the corners of his eyes stained red.
In a low, somber tone, Braydon said, “Saving me is just convenient? You want me to forget everything as soon as I escape the cage?”
Yvette looked at Braydon with a slight frown, her icy gaze piercing through him. Her voice was bone-chilling. “Braydon. I detest complications.”
Those words struck Braydon like a dagger, piercing deep into his heart. He questioned loudly, “After all these years, Yvette, have I just been a nuisance to you? Is there no chance for redemption after that mistake I made?”
A glint of lethal intent flashed in Yvette’s eyes, resolute and unfeeling. “Braydon, draw your weapon. I offer you a chance to Wager your life.” The game was simple. Each person takes turns with a revolver loaded with one or more bullets. They spin the cylinder, it, and point the gun at their own head.
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The one shot retreats, while the one who hesitates loses. Only one emerges victorious, likely at the cost of life. Braydon’s eyes darkened with disbelief as he watched Yvette pull out a silver firearm-from her coat. He recognized it well- the modified weapon she crafted herself, with range and lethality over tenfold that of an ordinary gun.
Braydon wondered, ‘Has Yvette grown to despise me so much that she wants to rid herself of me through this deadly game? Am I truly just a wretched joke?
Yvette’s demeanor remained unfazed, as if discussing lunch rather than a game of life and death.noveldrama
Braydon smirked coldly. “Very well, Yvette. I’ll wager with you if that’s what you want.”
He pulled out a gun from his pocket, both of them standing opposite, guns in hand. He fixed his gaze sharply on Yvette’s weapon. his lips thin in a tense line.
“I’ll go first,” Yvette declared, loading the gun and pointing it at her chest. Braydon’s pupils constricted at the sight.
In the next moment, he interjected, “Yvette, let me go first.”
With a frown, Yvette fixed her icy gaze on him, answering indifferently, “Suit yourself.”
Braydon aimed the dark muzzle of the gun at his own heart, remaining silent as heavy stillness enveloped him, murderous intent gleaming in his somber eyes. Yvette observed him from a distance, a silent spectator.
As he gazed into Yvette’s calm, unyielding expression, Braydon realized he had irrevocably lost her today. Despite his rise to power, escaping his grandfather and putting in effort, it was all in vain; he had never truly been in her heart or eyes.
His finger flinched, ready to pull the trigger, but at the last moment, he relinquishedthe weapon, letting it drop weakly to his side. Despair was clear on his face, the melancholy impossible to hide.
Seeing his capitulation, Yvette coldly and slowly withdrew her gun, her expression unchanged. Raising her brows delicately. she said softly, “Since you’ve made your choice, live well I hope we never meet again. With that, she turned and walked to
her car.
Braydon stood frozen, watching Yvette drive off in her Maserati le staggered a few steps, as if his feet were nailed to the ground, feeling like a withered tree. His complexion was ashen, the pallor of death evident, vitality sectningly drained from him.
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