"Now."
Jones sat back on his seat once again.
"Do you want to live?"
Elijah glared at the man who sat lazily on the seat.
He tried his best to break free while his blood kept dripping from his wrist.
Killian, who had been in a state of shock, finally looked up.
His voice filled the room. "...Will you let Cecily go?"
Jones looked at his eldest son, his eyes not showing a trace of warmth.
"It depends."
He replied, his voice cold.
"Will you do as asked?"
Killian clenched his fists, his lips parted, but no words came out.
Elijah tightened his jaw as he turned towards him.
"Don't," he muttered. "Don't give in to him."
"Don't listen to him, Killian." Jones stood, walking towards him. "He lost his lover and is trying to make you lose yours."
"SHUT UP—Urgh!"
Elijah's words turned into a cough as Jones' punch connected to his stomach.
"We don't have all day, Killian." Jones said, ignoring Elijah's pained voice.
Killian shut his eyes for a heartbeat.
