Miss Josefina: Nobody's Princess

Chapter 88

Rowan's icy glare could have frozen hell over. His eyes bore into his son, Oliver, with a ferocity that seemed lethal. This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

Oliver sat sprawled on the couch, returning the stare with a steely resolve that didn't waver. They sat in opposition, the tension palpable between them, only a coffee table serving as a no man's land.

Oliver, with a look colder than Rowan's, seemed almost heartless by comparison.

Rowan let out a scoff, his amusement thinly veiled. "Oliver, your mother's been gone for ages, and you're still holding that grudge against me?"

"Don't you dare speak about my mother! You're not worthy of saying her name!" Oliver shot back, his voice crackling with intensity.

Rowan's smirk grew wider, his plan seemingly coming together. "Your mother always acted so high and mighty, never listening to my advice. She got what she deserved!"

Rising to his feet, Oliver's voice thundered, "Don't you dare speak of my mother! Shut your mouth!"

"Oliver, you're telling me to shut up? Who do you think you are?" Rowan's tone was laced with arrogance, a smirk playing at his lips as he stepped closer, looking down at Oliver with disdain. "If you're so capable, kill me then. Isn't that what you want? Go on, take your shot," he taunted, pointing to his temple with a wicked laugh.

Memories of his mother's death flooded Oliver's mind. His emotions spiraled out of control, his eyes reddening with rage as he reached out and grabbed Rowan by the throat.

Gripping his father's neck with a vengeance, Oliver poured all his strength into his grasp. Yet, as his breath began to falter, Rowan's twisted smile remained as if he was a madman welcoming his

demise.

When Rowan was gasping for air, Oliver flung him to the ground. Rubbing his bruised throat, Rowan rasped, "What's the matter? Planning to let me go? Are you not going to avenge your dear mother?"

Locking eyes with Oliver, Rowan pulled out a handgun from his pocket and forced it into Oliver's hand, then guided it toward his own chest. "Come on, shoot here! If you've got the guts, do it, Oliver!"

Oliver's eyes, seething with hatred, stayed fixed on Rowan. The trigger was moments away from being pulled, the bullet ready to pierce his father's heart.

"Oliver!"

Just as the situation reached a critical point, Josefina arrived in the nick of time. She rushed to Oliver's side and firmly grabbed his icy hand. "Oliver, put down the gun," she urged, her voice a soothing caress. Her warm gaze met his as she drew closer, gently lowering the gun from his grasp.

Rowan was caught off guard by Josefina's interruption. He felt his plan unravel, stoking his anger even more. He pointed at Josefina, his voice loaded with accusation, "Who the hell do you think you are, barging in like this?"

Without hesitation, Oliver raised the gun and fired at Rowan's hand. The bullet struck true, sending Rowan's features into a painful contortion.

As Josefina saw Rowan reel from the shot, she wrapped her arms around Oliver. "Oliver, please, calm down. Don't do anything foolish."

George had told her about Oliver's situation, her heart aching with compassion and pity. Oliver's resolve was astounding. Anyone else might have succumbed to despair long ago.

Ignoring the wounded Rowan, Josefina clutched Oliver's hand, then cradled his face. "Look at me, Oliver. It's me, Josefina."

Oliver's eyes were bloodshot, the rage unsubsiding as he turned the gun towards Josefina.

Upon witnessing this, Rowan erupted in sinister laughter. "Yes, that's it. Pull the trigger, Oliver!"