Villain’s Favorite 231

Chapter 231 Knives Out 

George didn’t rush to argue. “Then, I’m curious-what does your sister look like in your eyes?” 

Liam didn’t hesitate. “A good kid.” 

His sister really was good. Great grades, obedient, polite. A completely different species from Maya. 

George nodded. “Is that so? 

Fished 

“My brother once told me that my sister is a coward. That she’s scared of loud noises on instinct, and I should never startle her for fun. 

“But actually, my sister is no coward. And she’s definitely no ‘good kid,’ either.” 

George found it hard to define who Maya was. 

She wasn’t a bright little sun. 

More like a beam of light with no warmth. 

Not bright enough. Not warm enough. 

But willing to sink into the dark with them. 

This was the first time George had ever felt this kind of urge to talk about someone. The sheer volume of words was making Liam uneasy. 

“And? What’s the point of telling me all this?” Liam set his glass down impatiently and checked his phone. Unread messages were stacked on top of each other. All urgent. 

Hurry up. Do it. Stop stalling. 

He inhaled slowly. 

His fingers tapped the tabletop twice, then slid down to the knife he’d been keeping pressed against the side of his chair. 

The handle was cold. 

Liquor gave cowards courage. 

He’d been drinking plenty tonight. 

Liam needed the alcohol propping him up to drive the knife home. 

“Nothing.” 

George snapped back to the present. 

His gaze settled on Liam’s face, and the usual easy smile returned. 

“I just wanted to let you know-” 

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Chapter 201 Knives Out 

The boy leaned forward, grinning with a mischievous edge. “Your frostility toward my sister is practically dripping out of your eyeballs, pal.” 

The instant those words landed, Liam’s eyes went wide-a pure startle reflex. 

He drew the knife on instinct. 

The blade carved a silver arc through the air. 

In the exact same instant, George produced the folding knife he always carried. 

For the record: he genuinely hadn’t planned to do anything to his friend tonight. 

The folding knife was just a force of habit. 

Leaving the house without a blade-or a gun-felt like leaving without his phone. 

Bringing a gun to meet a friend would have been weird. So, he’d only brought the knife. 

Except he hadn’t expected this. 

They’d both brought knives. 

Liam had been going for the surprise attack. One stab, three seconds tops, and it’d be over. 

But he hadn’t anticipated George having a blade of his own. 

Liam’s arm was barely halfway up when cold steel kissed his throat. 

The folding blade settled precisely over his carotid artery. He could feel the metal’s chill and its edge against his skin. Every muscle in Liam’s body locked. 

“…Well, that’s awkward.” 

George’s voice floated up beside his ear, vaguely ghostly. “You brought a knife, too?” 

The icy sensation against his skin nearly made Liam fling his own dagger across the room. 

He stared at George in bug-eyed terror, fighting with everything he had to suppress the full-body tremor, and opted for the preemptive strike-verbally. 

“George, what the hell is a folding knife supposed to mean?!” 

“A criminal carrying tools of the trade isn’t exactly headline news, is it?” George’s eyes drifted to the dagger in Liam’s hand. He added, “And you? Pal, were you planning to peel me an apple with that?” 

Speechless. Both of them. 

This was, objectively, insane. 

Two backstabbers pulling knives on each other at the same time, staring in mutual disbelief. 

Proof, perhaps, that some friendships existed for a reason. 

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Chapter Knives Out 

“Are you done messing around, Georger” Lam forced the pan di Hefused to briw Grow actually go through with it. The guy pranked him all the time this was probably another par 

“Messing around?” 

George blinked, genuinely amused by the word choice. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if his usual temperament had been too mild 

Had Liam actually forgotten what George did for a living? 

For context: when the Clarks were on an operation, even an earthworm crawling past them guttul 

The second George’s attention drifted, Liam seized the opening. His arm shot forward, dagger aimed at George’s stomach. 

His arm had traveled exactly one inch when pain exploded across his scalp. 

George grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head backward in one effortless motion. The sharp, tearing pain killed every ounce of Liam’s strength. He couldn’t move. His screams filled the room. 

“I thought we were friends, and you actually want to kill me?” 

The pain left Liam gasping. 

George showed zero mercy. The humiliation and helplessness shattered what was left of Liam’s scomfipremute He wrenched his face up and screamed, “Who’s friends with you?” 

His eyes were bloodshot, his voice shredded. “George, you want to know? Three years of knowing you, and every single day I spent around you made me miserable. Sick to my stomach. 

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