Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1630

Chapter 1630: Not when you owe me an entire lifetime to live.

"Who is the person pulling the strings?"

There was no introduction or clarification from Zoren. Classic Zoren. However, both he and Jonathan knew exactly who he was referring to.

He meant the force that had been backing up Jonathan from the shadows. The very people who had given Jonathan the power to get a DNA result that favored him, and the very force that had been giving him all the tools to get things done.

Slowly, Zoren rose to his feet and turned to face the direction where Jonathan stood.

"I’d like to see him... or her, in person," he demanded, his voice growing colder with every syllable. "Tonight."

Jonathan’s surprise gradually faded, replaced by a layer of frost. "What makes you think there’s anyone else pulling the strings?"

"You’ve lived two lifetimes, and you still ask me how I know?" _{frёewebηovel.cѳm}

Jonathan remained silent, but the sharpness in his eyes didn’t waver.

Of course, Jonathan knew.

He had always known that Zoren, even if he seemed inactive, was constantly watching from the sidelines—waiting, observing, preparing to strike.

And besides, Jonathan had deliberately made sure Zoren knew there was someone else. He had left enough clues and hints for Zoren to pick up on. Still, this was not the right time for that confrontation.

"Where... are they?" Zoren asked once more, his aura growing darker as the air around him turned even colder. "Do not make me ask again, Jonathan."

Jonathan quietly clenched his hand into a tight fist, his eyes fixed on Zoren. "This is not the right time for you to meet... her."

"That is not my question."

"Zoren." This time, Jonathan’s tone was firmer. "You’re not stupid enough to believe I’ve been leaving those hints out of kindness or some sudden change of heart."

He paused, the corners of his eyes sharpening. "You will die if you meet them."

"I might," Zoren replied coolly, "but not before you."

As soon as those words left his lips, red laser dots appeared where Jonathan stood. His brows lifted as he looked down at his body, watching the dots glide across his torso. He didn’t need a mirror to know there were several more trained on his head.

Jonathan’s jaw clenched as he stared at the unfazed Zoren. "Oh, what a sight."

He scoffed. "This reminds me... of the great Zoren Pierson from my previous life."

Just like now, Zoren had always gotten things done his way. Whenever this man wanted something, he took it—no matter the cost or the means.

"Are you going to get me killed—?"

BANG!

A quiet shot rang out. The window shattered, and the bullet punched through the wall. Though it seemed almost impossible, Jonathan knew the bullet had barely missed his temple. Had the shooter adjusted the rifle by even a fraction, his body would already be lying lifeless on the floor.

"You—"

Of course, Jonathan thought. I know you can... I’ve seen it firsthand.

I’ll be smoking after all.

He unwrapped a cigarette as he led the way to his study. On the way, he placed a stick between his lips but didn’t light it immediately. Instead, he waited until they reached the study, left the door open, and then finally lit it.

Zoren, following closely behind, watched Jonathan from across the desk.

"What?" Jonathan asked, stopping mid-reach for the drawer and shrugging. "My house, my rules, right?"

No response.

Jonathan clicked his tongue and puffed out the smoke, almost wishing it would be enough to choke Zoren to death. But that was nothing more than a foolish, fleeting thought. Secondhand smoke wasn’t nearly that merciful, nor was it that instant.

When Jonathan opened one of the drawers, his eyes immediately flicked to the pistol lying inside. He stared at it, then at the phone.

For a long moment, he just stood there.

Zoren didn’t move. He stood in the same spot, his eyes locked on Jonathan, who remained frozen in front of the open drawer.

If I pick this up... Jonathan thought, his eyes fixed on the pistol lying just within his reach.

Slowly, his hand lowered, hovering between the phone and the gun. His eyes gleamed as he lifted his gaze to the man standing motionless across from him.

In a heartbeat, Jonathan snatched the pistol and leveled it at Zoren.

"I am very sorry, Zoren Pierson," Jonathan murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "But I can’t let you walk to your death. Not yet. Not when you owe me an entire lifetime to live."