Try Begging

Chapter 92

“It’s a lie that your father will go to prison if you don’t help. Don’t say anything. No matter what they say, the more you talk, the worse your father will be.”

Geoffrey Sinclair would not be able to avoid being framed. Leon wanted to prevent the boy from growing up feeling guilty that he was to blame for the tragedy that befell his father because he knew better than anyone what kind of hell it was.

“Understand? Just shut up no matter what.”

As soon as the boy closed his mouth and nodded, someone knocked on the door.

“What is it?”

“Ah, Captain.”

The door opened, and the lieutenant under him saluted.

“What’s the matter?”

“The Lieutenant Colonel told me to bring the child.”

When the door to the interrogation room where the Lieutenant Colonel was located opened, the figure of the man sitting in front of the table came into view. Maybe they had tortured him while Leon was gone since Geoffrey Sinclair looked much more emaciated than yesterday.

There were two sheets of paper on the table.

It was obvious that the tightly dense page was a false confession written by someone else.

Seeing Geoffrey Sinclair’s hand shaking while holding the pen, they might have forced him to write in his handwriting on a blank piece of paper though he didn’t listen.

“Ah, Captain. You are finally here.”

As the Lieutenant Colonel, who had been pouring out harsh words at Sinclair, turned to him, Leon saluted and went inside.

“Lieutenant Collins has worked hard in your absence. You taught him well.”

The lieutenant who had come in after pushed his chest out and thanked the Lieutenant Colonel for the compliment. To be jumping in headfirst without knowing what kind of pit he was stepping into, it was truly foolish.

“Father!”

When the lieutenant pushed the child inside, the child ran, calling for his father. Geoffrey Sinclair’s eyes widened, not knowing that the military would even reach out to his son.

“Sam, why are you here…”

When Geoffrey asked, holding his son with trembling hands, the child burst into tears.

“Father, let’s go home. I don’t like it because it’s scary here. Huhu, I want to go home.”

The child who trembled in front of the soldiers but held on resolutely collapsed the moment he saw his father.

Leon let out a short, exhausted sigh.

He may have asked too much of a ten-year-old. The child should have done it to the soldiers to cry like a child and shout that he wanted to go home. Crying here would only shake his father, who was already on the edge of a cliff.

Sure enough. Geoffrey Sinclair, who was less determined than he had expected, collapsed along with his son.

“I will do as you ask, so please let the child go.”

It seemed that the Lieutenant Colonel’s ploy to intimidate him with his young son was effective.

‘…Disgusting. I’m sure it will go well without me here.’

The Lieutenant Colonel, who watched with satisfaction as the man wrote down the false confession, placed his hand on the child’s shoulder.

“Are you Sam? Your father is busy right now, so go play with this man. Why don’t you go see the puppy in the headquarters backyard?”

Geoffrey Sinclair’s hands began to tremble even more.

There would not be a puppy at the headquarters, so that man must have noticed that the lieutenant was talking about the military dogs.

“Wa, wait…”

The man held the child’s hand tightly as he eagerly looked up at Leon, not the Lieutenant Colonel, with teary eyes. When the other humans had gone beyond viciousness, it seemed that the devil Leon Winston looked like an angel.

“The Lieutenant Colonel is here. I will take it.”

“You have to sign it.”

The Lieutenant Colonel dismissed Leon’s suggestion and warned the man.

“Mr. Sinclair, finish what you are doing. As soon as there is a report that it is over, the child will be sent home safely.”

As Lieutenant Colonel took the child out, everyone held their breath. Only the sound of the pen scratching the paper continued.

In the meanwhile, Leon’s thoughts went on as he stood against the wall and stared at the man. To sacrifice his freedom, and maybe even his life, for his son… was it all like this when it came to children? It was a feeling he truly did not understand.

‘Freedom, and maybe even life…’

He suddenly came out and headed for the commander’s office.

“What’s going on this time?”

Of course, the commander was not pleased with him.

“I have a question about the Sinclair case.”

At those words, the commander let go of the pen he was holding and sighed.

“Captain, there are limits to what I can do.”

“I know that well.”

The commander was the card that protected the woman. He had no intention of wasting it on other people’s business. No matter how close a person in power was to the King, if he confronted the King and lost his favor through this incident, the commander would be useless when he really needed it.

Leon asked the commander, who had a fierce gaze, feeling his pride had been hurt by the fact that he knew his limits well.

“The punishment for Geoffrey Sinclair must have been decided, right?”

The commander did not deny the speculation that some kind of punishment would have been set above.

“They know that this is a dangerous move.”

Then, don’t do it.

“So, he won’t have the death penalty. They will keep him in a camp, and when the time is right, he will be mercifully pardoned.”

The commander snorted, emphasizing the word ‘mercifully’, showing he didn’t really agree to this.

“Well, of course, his property will be confiscated. Those are property accumulated through criminal acts.”

Were they trying to lobby for a bid with money stolen from their competitor?

This shows the extremes of their ugliness.

As soon as Leon got the answer he wanted, he returned to the interrogation room, where Geoffrey Sinclair had quickly completed his confession. The man, who seemed quite resolute, cried the moment he signed his signature, no longer able to hold it in.

“It’s your turn to sign, Captain.”

Lieutenant Collins snatched his confession and turned it in Leon’s direction. Under the signature of Geoffrey Sinclair, the signature line of the head of the Domestic Intelligence Division was waiting for him.

“All we need is a confession, his signature and your signature. That’s all. Easy.”

Yes, easy. Sacrificing me would be easy.

His intuition said one day everything would be revealed. Staring at the signature of the innocent scapegoat, a scrawled round letter resembling a noose.

When the world learned the truth, who would be the one who would choke on that?

º º º

The drunken woman stumbled.

“Princess, be careful not to fall.”

He held her hand like a gentleman, and the ‘princess’ smiled.

“Even if I get hurt, you won’t send me to the hospital.”

When the woman pouted her lips, he held out the bottle in response. Her lips, red like cherries, opened as she got drunk, letting in the caramel-colored liquid.

“Drink it slowly, Princess.”

The woman, accepting the drink he offered, would think he was mocking her as a princess of the rebel royal family. She could never fathom that royal blood truly coursed through her veins.

‘I never thought your lineage would be more precious than mine.’

The woman was in fact, the illegitimate daughter of a royal family’s collateral.

“Sit down.”

As he guided the stumbling woman to a nearby iron table, it felt like she was constantly falling as her movement was hindered by the weight of the shackles she wore. With a deft hand, he loosened the restraints, knowing she had no chance of escaping.

The woman, clearly in a desperate state, reached for a half-empty bottle of rum and hastily took a swig, causing the dark liquid to spill over her lips and dribble down her chin, staining her white shirt and messing with her appearance.

Leon buried his lips in the nape of the woman’s neck, feeling the water droplets from her drink trail down his own skin to his lips.

The aged rum’s flavors of caramel and cinnamon mixed with her natural scent, creating an alluring blend that made her even more intriguing to him. It was as though she held the last secret to perfecting the best rum he had ever tasted.

As he kissed her, he carefully wiped away the water droplets rolling down her shirt with his lips. He hated getting his clothes dirty.

At least it would be an excuse for now.

“Uung… It tickles.”

Even after the woman had set the bottle down, he licked her neck.

“Go away.”

The woman angrily pushed him away.

Go away. You’re like a bug.

“Aht!”

As he firmly grasped her chest through the shirt, the crisp and starched fabric crumpled and rustled beneath his touch. While he also hated getting his clothes wrinkled, it wasn’t bad to have the woman’s curves etched on his clothes.

The shirt continued to crumple as they moved, the sound of the rustling fabric blending with the woman’s pleading moans, creating an oddly enticing harmony.

“Ha-uht!”

“Shirt thief.”

After stepping out of the shower, he caught sight of the woman who boldly donned his shirt, making it her own. He couldn’t help but admire how she consistently found new ways to challenge the rules he set.

On the other hand, he could quite tolerate seeing the woman in his clothes.

“Are you framing me after giving me something to wear? As expected, you dirty monarchy pig who is like the schemer king you serve.”

The woman playfully exposed one shoulder, making a sarcastic remark that left him with no retort for the moment. After all, it was he who had quickly discarded his shirt upon entering the torture chamber.

“Uung… don’t do it.”

Teasing her for a brief moment, he eventually released her grip before the woman jumped off the iron table and headed straight for the black iron door.

Watching her stumble around in the oversized shirt, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease.