Current location: Novel nest The Spy Bride of a Billionaire Chapter 17

"The Spy Bride of a Billionaire" Chapter 17

As the light illuminated the space, she caught sight of the photograph affixed to the granite.

The woman appeared to be roughly their age, possessing a pair of remarkably vibrant eyes that seemed to project a warm, gentle smile right at the observer, pulling at one's heartstrings.

Sebastian's features had clearly been inherited mostly from his mother.

Scarlett stood in absolute silence, tracking Sebastian's movements.

"I have completely fulfilled your vengeance," he said quietly, placing the blood-stained brass dagger gently before the headstone.

When setting it down, he took care to cushion the weapon with a clean handkerchief, clearly loath to let the crimson stains pollute the sanctity of her resting place.

"Furthermore, I have secured a marriage, and I wanted you to meet her."

Sebastian drew out the two marriage certificates, resting them carefully before the photograph.

"She happens to be the disciple of the man who saved my life," he pulled Scarlett closer to his side, adding, "and she rescued me as well."

Chapter 27

What?

"Since when did I ever rescue your life?" Scarlett asked, staring at Sebastian in absolute bewilderment.

Although she had completely transitioned into a quiet life of domesticity after her marriage, she had operated within the trade of blood for a considerable time; the number of targets who had perished beneath her blades was astronomical.

Yet if she had to compile a tally of individuals she had actively saved, the count wouldn't even fill a single hand.

Operating as an assassin for so long turned one's heart into iron forged on a freezing glacier—it would only harden, never soften.

The single instance she had ever succumbed to a momentary lapse of mercy occurred on a torrential night many years ago.

A youth had been collapsed on the ground, his consciousness completely fractured, yet his fingers had gripped the edge of her jacket with a terrifying tenacity as he gasped out a single plea: "Save me."

Scarlett had suffered a brief wave of empathy, delivering him safely to a medical facility.

Back then, terrified that the handlers from the Syndicate would uncover her unsanctioned actions, she had only dared to secretly slip into his ward in the dead of night.

He had executed an abrupt departure later on, and the memory had gradually faded from her mind entirely.

Could it possibly be...

The corners of Sebastian's lips curved into a slow smile, a sharp gleam of playfulness darting through his eyes:

"The youth collapsed inside the bridge underpass on that torrential night was me."

The revelation left Scarlett completely stunned.

The world was remarkably small.

She hadn't anticipated that through all the twists of chronology, the mentor had saved him, and she had saved him as well.

Could this be classified as destiny?

"You left me at that hospital back then and failed to reappear for three whole days; you truly operate with an absolute detachment..."

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Sebastian lowered his eyes to look down at her, his tone carrying a faint hint of playful resentment.

His eyes were remarkably bright, mimicking the stars in the night sky, making it near-impossible to lock her gaze against his.

Scarlett averted her eyes, muttering under her breath, "I did go to check on you."

"You came to check on me?" Sebastian's sharp hearing caught the low murmur seamlessly.

An intense wave of emotion seemed to surge through him as he closed the distance between them, pressing further: "How is it that I never caught sight of you? I spent months trying to unearth your identity just to offer retribution for your mercy."

"My days were entirely consumed by contracts at the time, and terrified of being compromised, I could only execute my visits secretly in the dead of night," she answered honestly.

"You harbored that much concern for me..." Sebastian drew closer, the faint scent of nicotine drifting past her nose; it wasn't repulsive at all, instead possessing an intoxicating quality that pulled at her senses.

"You could have easily disregarded my survival entirely, yet you subjected yourself to sneaking in night after night. Wasn't that exhausting?"

What kind of logic was that?

Scarlett instantly countered, "A human life was hanging in the balance; since I chose to intervene, it was only natural that I see it through to the absolute end!"

Sebastian pressed his lips together, lowering his head to lock his eyes against her vibrant gaze, a sudden, genuine smile breaking across his features: "Thank you for ensuring I survived."

She dismissed his gratitude with a casual wave of her hand, "You survived because your own will to live was absolute; it has nothing to do with me."

She had explicitly told him the exact same truth when she first rescued him; his life belonged to him.

He was the one who fought to live; she merely happened to cross his path at the right moment.

Therefore, there was absolutely no necessity for appreciation.

Yet Sebastian stubbornly repeated the sentiment once more: "Thank you."

Thank you for appearing in my world, Scarlett.

Within that absolute, suffocating darkness, she had heard his desperate plea for help, guiding him out from the torrential storm and offering him a gateway to survive.

Scarlett failed to comprehend the profound depth of his gratitude, choosing to deftly redirect the conversation: "So, you have been actively searching for me all this time?"

She steered the inquiry back to the initial topic.

Sebastian gave a firm nod, "And utilizing the coordinates left by your mentor, I was finally able to track down your location seamlessly."

"Why go to such lengths to find me?" A faint amusement curled her lips as she teased, "Did you intend to offer yourself in marriage as retribution?"

Scarlett purposefully framed it as a joke.

That was precisely how the narratives in television dramas unfolded.

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A torrential night, a life-saving mercy, and the psychological impact of a shared trauma were more than enough to forge the illusion of love at first sight.

She hadn't anticipated the man would arch an elegant eyebrow, his finger casually directing her attention back toward the marriage certificates resting before the headstone: "I have already executed that retribution."

"Ah..." The amusement instantly vanished from her face. "So you genuinely did..."

Sebastian reached out to catch her hand, interlocking his fingers tightly with hers as they stood locked together before the granite, his voice steady as he addressed the woman smiling warmly from the photograph:

"Mother, I have finally found the woman I love."

Chapter 28

Sebastian's residence, guest room.

By the time they returned from the cemetery last night, it was already close to dawn.

Scarlett changed her clothes and threw herself onto the bed, falling asleep immediately.

Half of it was sheer exhaustion, and the other half was avoidance.

Avoiding what?

She opened her eyes, staring at the snow-white sheets before her as Sebastian's words echoed in her ears once more:

"The woman I love..."

"The woman I love..."

Sebastian loved her?

The mere thought sent a violent shiver through Scarlett's entire body, feeling nothing but bizarre.

Sebastian, loving, her? Having those words strung together felt as surreal as a fish riding a bicycle.

Furthermore, Scarlett's gaze darkened. Sebastian had always been as cold as an iceberg, treating her like an untouchable muse.

Yet she was hardly an innocent novice completely oblivious to romance; she understood the true weight of affection, and she knew how precious love was.

The ordeal with Ethan had scarred her to her core, and any romantic aspirations she once held had been utterly consumed by his repulsive schemes.

She possessed neither the heart to love nor the strength to respond to affection.

A love of his caliber was far too heavy for her to bear.

At this thought, her heart sank heavily.

Between her and Sebastian, they could maintain a purely transactional arrangement, or operate strictly as client and assassin—but they could never function as lovers.

Knock, knock, knock. A rap sounded against the door.

"Scarlett," Sebastian called out, "are you awake yet?"

"I'm up—ah!"

She vocalized a reply, instinctively attempting to prop her upper body up from the mattress.

Yet she had entirely forgotten the lacerations across her back; the sudden tearing agony caused a sharp cry to escape her lips.

Sebastian's voice instantly laced with anxiety, and the handle clicked as he made a move to push inside.

Scarlett halted him frantically: "I'm fine! Do not enter."

The whip lashes across her back had been properly dressed and wrapped in bandages, so technically they shouldn't inflict any pain.

However, after last night's chaotic journey, followed by her collapsing straight into sleep today, the pain-relieving medication had long since expired.

Coupled with that sudden extension, she could faintly perceive the fluid seeping out from the wounds across her back.

She happened to be clad in light-colored garments today; the spreading blood stains would undoubtedly look exceptionally horrific.

Wrestling against the intense pain, Scarlett turned around, only to find Sebastian already turning the handle and stepping into the room.

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