The price of betrayal (Jack and Ashley) novel Chapter 161

Nolan looked at Archie and smiled faintly. "Mr. Baxter, I know many people, but I don't plan to involve anyone in handling Mr. Lynch—not even Sir Carter. I killed them for a simple reason. As I said, they should be prepared to die by my hand if they came to kill me.

"And I know you're worried, so let me assure you—there's no need. I'm the one who killed them, so they can come after me directly."

It sounded so straightforward. Nolan might have done the killing, but Lincoln had been the one to restrain the hitmen.

Plus, they were in Bellington. The Baxter family openly supporting Nolan couldn't possibly go unnoticed by Gregory. If there was any expectation that the Baxter family wouldn't face repercussions, that was unrealistic.

Now, with Nolan saying that he intended to face it alone, Archie could only nod with a sigh. "Very well. Since you're prepared, Mr. Greene, we'll follow your lead.

"Don't worry. The Baxter family isn't one to run scared. We've chosen to stand with you and won't retreat or avoid the consequences. You can count on us—we're with you through life and death."

He pointed to Robert. "Mr. Greene, how do you wish to deal with him? I leave it to you."

Nolan looked at Robert, chuckling softly. "Do you want to live or die?"

Robert scoffed, glaring at him with disdain. "Nolan, stop with the theatrics. You think you can scare me?"

"If you want to kill me, go ahead. I won't so much as frown. If you think I'd ever bow to you, you're dreaming. Come on then. Do it. I'll be waiting in the underworld—you'll be joining me soon anyway. Ha ha ha!"

An unbearable itch soon overtook his entire body, some coming from deep within his bones, making it impossible to endure.

Within moments, he was left speechless, frantically scratching himself, tearing his clothes in his desperation. But it wasn't enough—the itch burrowed into his bones, driving him to claw at his flesh desperately to get relief.

The scene left Archie and Lincoln horrified and drenched in cold sweat.

Robert, at that moment, seemed to have lost all reason. He emitted guttural growls, his bloodshot eyes wild with madness. His body was a mess of shredded, bloodied skin, yet still, he could find no relief.

A perfectly healthy, living person had transformed into a blood-soaked, self-mutilating monster right before their eyes. Who wouldn't feel a chill run down their spine witnessing such a scene?