Stolen Love Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Chapter 43: An Interrogation

 

Li Xin sighed in resignation as futile excuses flashed across her mind. It was impossible to hide anything from him; but still, she would do all she could to distract him from finding out what she’d actually done.

Qi Mo huffed and grabbed her hand, yanking it back violently. She m.u.f.fled a yelp of pain at the movement. She noticed his s.h.i.+rt sleeve against her wrist and froze, letting out a silent curse in her head. Her wrist was still covered in the other girl’s blood; she’d forgotten to clean it off in her haste.

Qi Mo’s eyes darkened at the sight and regarded her icily, saying, “No one has ever lied to me and lived to tell the tale.” His hand tightened painfully around her wrist.

She winced at his tone and knew that she’d crossed the line this time. It was impossible to ignore the deadly glare he fixated upon her. The man was impossible to lie to. She opened her mouth, fl.u.s.tered: “I’m not lying to you, really! I promise— ow!”

The hand around her wrist drew into an even tighter snare and turned it over. “I’ll ask you one more time,” he warned.

Li Xin felt like her wrist was going to snap; her eyes began to water from the pain. “Stop it, you’re going to break my wrist,” she said in between breaths.

“Hurry up and spit out the truth already. Boss hates people who lie to him more than anything. If you want to live, you’d better tell us what you were up to earlier,” Yellow Falcon said, looking at them through the rearview mirror. From his position, he couldn’t see Li Xin sprawled below, but he could see anger clouded across every inch of Qi Mo’s face. He wasn’t trying to lecture Li Xin, but to explain why the overlord was so extraordinarily angry.

“Who asked you to speak up?” Qi Mo inserted coldly.

“She doesn’t sound all right,” Yellow Falcon replied quickly. “She’s still wounded and can’t handle the impact of your strength. Let’s hear what she was up to first; if she really did something wrong, then I’ll punish her in your place.”

“Hurry and spill it,” Li Hu added quietly. “Unless you really want to p.i.s.s the boss off? Just tell the truth, we aren’t maniacal serial killers.”

In truth, they were all aware that Li Xin wouldn’t do anything to betray them, and they knew that Qi Mo was aware of this fact as well. Otherwise, he would have killed her a long time ago. Whatever had just happened, they were sure there were reasons behind it; Li Xin’s lies fooled no one. The Qi Clan overlord despised liars more than anything in the world. In the clan, if anyone did something wrong, they were either reprimanded or punished according to clan rules. Qi Mo wouldn’t throw unjust punishments on his own people — but lying was a different story; there was no way out of it. The fact that Li Xin had been caught in a lie but hadn’t yet been killed was an act of mercy. If she still refused to tell the truth, then there was no one that could save her.

Qi Mo ignored Yellow Falcon and squeezed Li Xin’s wrist again. “Are you going to speak or not?”

“Okay, okay! I’ll tell the truth.” Li Xin wasn’t so stupid that she didn’t hear the implications behind Yellow Falcon and Li Hu’s words. Qi Mo was angry more because she had lied than what she’d done; thus, she decided to just tell them the truth. To be honest, what she’d done wasn’t really such a huge deal to begin with. It was just that she had no idea how Qi Mo would react.

“Speak.” He loosened his hold on her wrist, but still kept her in place.

“That woman didn’t deserve to die. It’s not

like she did anything terrible to you. You might be able to see her killed just like that, but I can’t,” she confessed, glaring at Qi Mo spitefully.

He frowned and grabbed her from below her ribs, flipping her around so that she faced him; her face was filled with pain, but she showed no sign of remorse for what she’d done. “You went against my orders for a woman?”

She sat on Qi Mo’s legs, her wrist burning. Yet the ridiculousness of his question stumped her nonetheless. She looked him in the eye. “It’s a life. Your life is worth money — well so is everyone else’s. No one should have to die when they haven’t done anything wrong. It wouldn’t matter if I didn’t witness it, but since I did, I wasn’t going to do nothing.”

Being abandoned as a child had educated her on the value of life; not only her own, but other people’s as well. It was for this reason that she never resorted to killing; in all her years of racing, she did not have a single death on her record. As for people who did deserve to die, however, she spared no mercy.

Qi Mo stared back at her silently. He took in the righteous expression on her face; a few drops of liquid still clung to her lashes like morning dew. Once again, the juxtaposition of her resoluteness and her weakness gave him pause.

He felt nothing for the woman who had violated his personal s.p.a.ce and touched him. To him, anyone who crossed him in such a way deserved to die — life existed only to be exterminated. His life was worth what it was worth because he had worked his way up to make it priceless. So what if he considered all other lives as worthless as an ant’s life?

“You are mistaken,” he said eventually. “People who make errors only deserve to live if they have the ability to turn their wrongs into rights. The inability to do so is an error in itself and warrants death. This world only recognizes the strong, not the weak.”

For in his world, there were no should or should nots, only strong or weak. He had learned from the time he was a young child that in order to live, one could only rely on oneself. Relying on others was out of question and impossible. He had grown up on a perpetual battlefield that lay on the brink of death — did he deserve to die back then? But the world was cruel. It did not let a person live just because they did not deserve to die. If you wanted to live, you had to fight for the opportunity to.

Li Xin’s gaze didn’t move. She fixed her stare upon Qi Mo’s stone-cold features: cruel eyes filled with a murderous intent that cut like gla.s.s, void of remorse, of pity, of empathy. They stared directly into each other’s eyes like that for several long moments.

It was then that she suddenly understood that the concept of the weak being prey to the strong was the founding principle upon which the world of crime built itself. It was how much power you had and how well you could wield it that mattered. An unwritten, but nevertheless formidable, law of nature. It was complicated and dangerous, yet it was also blunt and essentially the most natural law in the world. Here, there was no room for pity or appreciation.

They were two people who had grown up in two different worlds and thus had developed very different perspectives on life. Li Xin knew subconsciously that Qi Mo wasn’t exactly wrong. Here, concepts such as pity and whether someone deserved to die were ignorant; this was a place that required absolute brutal strength and it was independent of those should or should nots. However, Qi Mo’s perspective did not represent her own. There was, unfortunately, no way for her to get him to see where she was coming from.

“You have your views, I have mine,” she said finally. “In mine, people don’t die when they’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

Qi Mo swept a glance over her pained face and held her by her waist tightly. “Only one time,” he warned, his voice short and brusque.

She looked at him strangely then, for she had had her heart in her throat, prepared to lose her life over this. Yet he had let her go just like that. Her heart returned to its proper location. From the front of the car, Yellow Falcon and Li Hu shared a glance filled with bemus.e.m.e.nt and understanding. Qi Mo detested being touched by women more than anything — that he had just let Li Xin go made it undeniable that she was something else.