Midnight Bride The CEO's Temptation

Chapter 690 - 690: Yes, I Lied To You

Greta spared herself from Brent's arms. She rose and stared straight at her foster father, who gave her a second life but only trained her as a killing machine.

"That day was the anniversary of my mother's death. She liked honey strawberry cake when she was alive. I just wanted to buy a cake for her but didn't expect to be caught by the police... I'm sorry, it was my fault. Please don't punish Brent," Greta whispered with her head drooping.

Her mother, Jennifer, left a diary recording her love story with her father. When Barzini adopted her and brought her to Italy, she took the diary with her. Since she learned to read, she had tried to imagine what her mother liked from the diary left by her.

From the diary, Greta learned her father always bought a honey strawberry cake for her mother. She smiled and sometimes cried as she read the happy days of her parents, imagining they were always around her.

Over the years, she had read and reread the diary, and the outside corner of the diary was worn down.

That was why she knew her mother liked honey strawberry cake.

Every year, on the anniversary of her mother's death, she bought honey strawberry cake in memory of her mother.

This year, unluckily, she ran into a local police officer and was caught when she sneaked out.

Barzini's face relaxed a little when Greta, at last, gave way.

His adopted daughter was so young, but she cared not for pain and was as rigid as adamant.

That was exactly what he wanted.

He was injured in a fight when he was young and could never have children of his own.

This was his purpose in adopting this American girl.

She had been brought up to be ungrateful and cruel, and when he was old and frail, this kid would take his place, dominate his subordinates, and inherit his empire.

The only fly in the ointment was...

Barzini's eyes fell on Brent, who was wounded.

He'd rather see Greta refuse to admit her mistake. But in the end, she submitted to him for a bodyguard.

This meant that Greta still had a weakness.

A tender-hearted creature was not able to run the Mafia.

Greta didn't know what her foster father was thinking. She called a maid to help Brent up and take him out.

After Brent was helped away, she turned to Barzini.

"I've admitted my mistake, dad," she said calmly. "Now, can you answer my question?"

"Go ahead," Barzini looked at her.

Greta approached him slowly. "You told me my real father was killed by my uncle and that my mother was driven away from LA to a small village by my grandfather. You said I should blame the Sterlings for the miserable fate of my family. What you said is all false, isn't it?"

She had thought of what response Barzini might have when he was asked the question.

The strongest possibility was that he would explode on the spot and scold her for questioning him in this way.

But, to her surprise, Barzini made only a slight frown.

The do-nothing Italian police worked hard to find Greta under pressure from the Sterling family. After Greta was arrested, he sent people to help but could hardly find an opportunity to get her out of the detention house.

After she came back last night, he learned right away who had freed her.

Dylan Sterling.

That man must have said something to her, otherwise, she wouldn't have asked that question just now.

"Yes, I lied to you," he replied simply.

Greta had guessed the answer, but she was shocked at his frankness.

She had planned to revenge her dead father since she was a child, but she was proven to be ridiculously wrong.

The Sterlings were her family, not her enemies.

And what did she do? She tied up her aunt, hurt her, and almost killed her uncle personally. Her innocent little cousin nearly became a parentless kid because of her.

She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

"Why?" She stared at the man in front of her with an awful penance, "why did you do that? Why did you lie to me and say my relatives were my enemies?"

Barzini smiled relentlessly at her adopted daughter as if he didn't think he had done anything wrong.

"It sharpened your mind and made you more invincible."

If she could kill her relatives, her heart would be as strong as a rock, and no one could defeat her.

At that point, she would be the real successor.

Therefore, after she became sensible and asked how her parents died, he told her that it was her grandfather who separated her parents and drove her pregnant mother out of LA. After that, Jennifer gave birth to her alone in a village. Because there was no one to take care of her, she died of disease early.

Since her father was the eldest son and heir to the family fortune, her uncle murdered her father to possess the family property alone.

And she believed all he said.

She had been brainwashed into thinking that she must kill the Sterlings to revenge her parents.

But now, she was told that all she believed was false, and the one she had hurt was the one who loved her.

She gawked at Barzini, speechless.

She had always been grateful to Barzini for adopting and educating her.

At this moment, however, she deeply realized that Barzini's kindness to her might not be for her good but for himself.

He wanted to have a ruthless inheritor to manage his gang.

"Finished? Then go back to your room and get packed. We're leaving in the evening for Rome." Barzini waved her out.

Greta stood still, staring at him.

Barzini's face changed.

"What's the matter? Aren't you convinced? Want me to apologize to you? Don't forget who brought you up! If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't have had a chance to grow up and see the world. You would have died with your mother in that small village!"

Blue veins stood out in his neck, and there was a murderous look on his face with its raised eyebrows and downward curling lips.

Greta finally unclenched her fist and walked out of the room.

She headed for Brent's room.

To protect her closely, Brent lived in the room next to hers.

The door was ajar. She pushed it open and walked in. Brent, half-naked, was applying for medicine on his wounded back with twisted arms.