Villain’s Favorite 232

Chapter 232 The Kill 

Liam had tried. He’d genuinely tried to save this friendship. 

Clinging to the thought of “maybe I can pull him back,” he’d attempted it again and again. Every time, he failed. 

Criminals could not be forgiven. And if he kept running with criminals, there would be no coming back for himself, either. 

So when someone approached him and asked him to cooperate with a kill operation, he hesitated for a few days, then agreed. 

Their instructions were simple: map out the target’s positions, report them, then deliver one stab. 

Today was the day. Snipers had been in position since dawn. 

The reason he hadn’t given the go-ahead yet was the risk of tipping George off. 

George’s counter-surveillance instincts were sharp. If he sensed something wrong and bolted, there’d be no second chance. 

They had to wait until his guard was completely down. 

Until he sat down, relaxed, and reached for that glass- 

Or didn’t reach for it. It didn’t matter.” 

“I just need one stab,” Liam muttered. “It doesn’t have to be fatal. Just enough to slow him down. The people 

outside will come in and finish the rest.” 

Who would have guessed that this unpredictable lunatic was a sister-obsessed maniac? One offhand comment about Maya, and the whole conversation had gone off a cliff? 

He was furious. 

George listened to the confession. His delicate face split into a grin. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his whole body shaking with suppressed laughter. 

“Sorry, sorry-I honestly had no idea being my friend caused you this much suffering.” 

The muffled laughter echoed through the dingy apartment, eerily out of place. 

“Truth be told,” George said, “considering our history, I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just stabbed me. 

“I wouldn’t have been angry.” 

But Liam just had to go and talk about Maya. 

And everything he’d said was exactly what George didn’t want to hear. 

If Liam had sat down and spent the evening heaping praise on Maya, George probably wouldn’t be preparing to kill him right now. 

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10:17 Tue, May 12 

Chapter 232 The Kill 

The malice had been oozing from every syllable. 

Unfortunate. But friends could be replaced. 

He was not going to leave a threat hanging over Maya’s head. 

George flipped the folding knife. Blade down. He crouched, meeting Liam’s eyes. “I don’t plan to die here today. I promised my sister I’d come home early. 

“My dad says an assassin should keep his word. I figure the same goes for being a brother.” 

As he spoke, he slid the blade into Liam’s carotid artery. Softly, he added, “As a fellow big brother, I’m sure you understand. Protecting a sibling isn’t optional. 

“So, go ahead and die.” 

He looked down expressionlessly. He drew the folding knife from Liam’s neck. 

Blood coated the blade. It sprayed outward, spattering George’s white shirt, blooming across the fabric like crimson flowers. 

He stood. He stared blankly at the body of the person he’d known for three years. 

The boy’s eyes had gone slightly unfocused, gazing at nothing. He watched Liam go completely still before crouching down again and pressing two fingers to the side of Liam’s neck. 

No pulse. 

His fingers lingered for two seconds. Then he slowly fished out Liam’s phone. 

He cracked the passcode in three taps and tore through every record. 

Then, he scanned the message thread. 

“There are snipers stationed outside. Two gunmen as well.” 

…What a great friend. 

Two gunmen. One sniper. 

Were they that afraid he’d walk out alive? 

George lowered his eyes. A thought drifted through, idle and detached: maybe he should just sit here and wait to die. 

After all, the sniper was still out there. 

Staying meant the gunmen would flush him out eventually. 

He was dead either way. 

He remembered Maya’s pitiful little plea from last night. His lips twitched. A low murmur “You begged me to stay alive, but… what am I supposed to do?” 

10:17 Tue, May 12 

Chapter 212 The Kill 

Fnished 

George thought. What could he possibly do? 

Even if he wanted to fight, there wasn’t enough time. 

Forget it. 

On second thought, dying casually in someone else’s apartment was pretty undignified. 

If he was going to die, at least die outdoors. 

Holding onto that sliver of absurd motivation, George stripped Liam’s jacket, found a baseball cap in the shabby apartment, and pulled the brim low over his face. 

Time for one last attempt at survival. 

He had a strong suspicion that, based on Maya’s performance last night, if he had the nerve to die on her, she’d rip his head off. 

Meanwhile. 

Maya-blissfully unaware that, inside that building, a best-friends-who-stab-each-other drama had just unfolded-was calming her nerves and reviewing everything she’d learned. 

It was dawn. She was on the sixth floor of an unfinished building. The wind was savage. The window frames were bare-no glass, just rectangular holes letting the gale pour through. 

Maya settled the sniper rifle on the windowsill. The stock was against her shoulder. Her cheek was pressed to the cold metal. 

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