Robert bit his cheek as he processed the story Gerrard just told them. Firstly, he knew he wasn't exactly the most moral student back in the day. But Gerrard was an adult. And he had the chance to say yes or no. Secondly, Robert was a tad bit remorseful for putting Gerrard in such a position. He should've known better. A lot of young men couldn't say no to those lovely pairs of tits.

Thirdly, he understood how Gerrard felt because he was put in the same position all his life. He knew how hard it was for someone to have a father who didn't want to speak to them. However, that didn't excuse Gerrard for killing off his friend and spilling countless blood in his quest for revenge.

Gerrard's motives were human, but his execution was devilish. There was no justification for what Gerrard did to Howard. There was no justification for the countless lives that were lost because of his anger toward Robert.

"All this because of a fucking letter," Robert laughed ironically.

Gerrard was stupid-Frigging stupid. Robert couldn't be blamed for a young stupid decision he made. They were all living their best lives back then and all he did was ask Gerrard to join in. All Gerrard had to do was say no. He couldn't drag the bloody cunt to the party.

"People are willing to go to great lengths for anything dear to them." Gerrard drank from his cup. "Which made me wonder, why were you willing to go this far for the moon lamp? You turned into a detective just so you could secure your metal; which your treasure hunters told me was the last piece to complete your moon lamp."

"It's none of your business."

"You know the reason why I was willing to kill off your friend." Gerrard pursed his lips. "It'll only be fair if I know why you wanted to make the moon lamp so badly."

Ella's eyes teared up at the fact that Howard was being brought up. Robert could feel pain channel into his but knew she was still angry at him to say anything about it. She bottled up her emotions and kept her face stoic as she looked at the food before her.

"You killed off my friend and here you are speaking about it like it was an insignificant event." Robert clenched his jaw, his fist tightening so hard they ached.

Gerrard reclined in his seat. "It is insignificant. The same way you didn't care about how I felt when you heard about what you did to me, it's just the same way I care less about how you feel over your friend's death."

He applied logic to the most sensitive topics. And that pissed Robert to his bloody roots.

"So are you going to tell me or not?"

"I won't."

"Fine, I'll just beat it out of you. Victor."

Victor nodded and advanced to Robert. He cracked his fists and then blessed Robert's face with one. The pain burned through his skull, his temples thumping in a tempo Robert knew was unhealthy.

"Fuck!" He yelled, the blood drooling down his nostrils.

"Still won't say a thing?" Gerrard asked.

"You. Can. Kiss. My. Arse."

Wham!

"Christ!" Robert's lips were cut from the punch, and he spat out blood on the white tiles. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Gerrard about his horrible relationship with his father. He didn't owe Gerrard an explanation about his life.

"Are you ready to talk now?"

Victor held a handful of Robert's hair as his head dangled loosely. His vision was turning hazy. How long was he going to be able to keep this up?

"No," Robert said in a whisper. He could barely speak anymore because of his sore mouth. At first, his reason for not telling Gerrard his former motives for the moon lamp was plausible. But the fact Gerrard was willing to beat it out of him was an indication that he needed the information desperately. If there was something he had learnt from his battle with Gerrard, it was that giving him information was a dangerous thing to do.

As expected, Victor punched him. This time it was in the stomach. Robert wheezed as he tried to catch some air. His lungs were tightening and he feared for his life.

"Stop!" Ella's voice broke out and then the next words were let out in a weak voice. "I'll tell you. Please don't hurt him again."

Victor left Robert's hair and his head dropped to the table, worsening his already developed headache. He was too weak to ask Ella not to say a word.

"I've always known, Miss Featherington to be smarter than you," Gerrard said, his voice echoing down the walls of Robert's ears. He was growing unconscious, and he knew it. He couldn't go now. He had to be awake to be able to protect Ella.

"You have to promise me you won't hurt him anymore."

"You need not worry, Miss Featherington. Now tell me, what made him want this moon lamp so desperately."

No.

Don't tell me him...

Robert's thoughts faded away as everything around him receded into darkness.

****

The drops of water from the ceiling splitting onto Robert's face woke him up. He remembered being beaten to a pulp before he passed out. His stomach growled and begged for food. He hadn't eaten in two days. Only God knew how Ella felt. She hadn't had food in over a week. Poor girl. He dragged himself up and looked by his side expecting to see her, but she wasn't there.

He panicked.

His hands spasmed.

His throat constricted.

His mouth became dry.

Where was she? Where did Gerrard take her to? His mind was wrapped in a band of hysteria. Gerrard had better not touch her or he'll feed him his tongue. The chains connected to his cuffs clanked as he ran his hands through his hair and they were a reminder that there was nothing he could do so far.

His back straightened when the bolt outside shifted. Victor Hastings stood at the entrance, two henchmen siding him. They approached him and unlocked his chains from his cuffs but still left the chains binding his legs together.

"Take him out," Victor commanded, taking a step back.

"Where's Ella?" Robert asked looking over his shoulders as the henchmen led him outside the cell.

"Where we're taking you to," Victor answered.

Where could they possibly be taking him to? Outside the cell, there were concrete walls on both sides. At the end was a stairway that had a beam of white light sliding down it, leaving flickers on the floor of the dark corridor.

Their footsteps echoed as they continued walking toward the stairs. Once they reached it, his head was bagged and he was taken up the stairs. They kept walking for minutes. After what felt like aeons, they stopped moving and took off his bag.

His eyes winced at the sudden introduction to light. When his perception normalised, he saw he was standing atop a cliff. Way beyond it was the expanse of the black country, black smoke from the iron foundries clouding the sky.

Ella and Gerrard were at the edge of the cliff. Next to him was a table. The steel safe he gave his treasure hunters was atop it. Behind those steel walls was his metal.

That wasn't what caught his attention the most. It was the gun Gerrard had to Ella's head. She was seating on a chair and her mouth was tired, her hands roped with a white cloth. Life had left her body. She looked like a ghost of her former self. Her eyes could barely open and her head kept dropping but Gerrard violently dragged it back up with a handful of her hair.

"What is the meaning of this?" Robert asked, his life flashing before his eyes. This was the exact way he felt when Howard and Ella were brought to that balcony with Gerrard holding a gun behind them. This couldn't be a repetition of that same day. He couldn't lose Ella. Not after he had lost his best friend.

"This is your point of no return, Your Lordship," Gerrard said. He licked his lower lip. "I was thinking of a way to truly make you suffer. And then the idea hit me after Ella told me how much the moon lamp meant to you."

Oh, no. He knew about his father. Robert's intuitions were right. No information given to Gerrard was a good idea. He couldn't blame Ella, she was only trying to save him.

"Who would've known we both had father problems." Gerrard smirked. "Well, I don't have anymore. Because you killed him."

"Gerrard, please take the gun away from her," Robert pleaded. A pull of the trigger and there would be no Ella in this world anymore.

Victor kicked Robert's knee from behind, forcing him to kneel. He looked up at what he could call the most terrifying sight he had ever seen; a gun to his lover's head.

"You will have a chance to save her. But you will have to make a choice." Gerrard yanked her hair and she gave out a weak whimper. Her skin was pale and she looked like a corpse. She hadn't had food or water for a week and this was its result. "You see, I killed off your treasure hunters too early so I wasn't aware your safe had a lock. And I'm sure you know the lock, yes?"

"I do."

"Good. And I also heard the metal in t

here is worth a fortune since it's the rarest metal on earth." He ran his fingers over Ella's dull cheeks which were formerly full of blood. "Now I know how much this metal means to you. And thanks to your beautiful sick looking lover," Robert's eyes twitched at those words 'sick looking', "I finally have the perfect punishment for you."

"You give me the bloody code and I'll let your lover go. Or, you take your safe and I take her life."

This was it.

The moment where he had to choose what was more important? The moon lamp or his lover. When he said he was going to make the moon lamp for himself, he knew it wasn't quite possible to easily change his motives for it. Validation of his father was the reason why he made the moon lamp. And if he did save it, he'll still hope for his father's validation.

But at what cost?

The life of Ella. A woman who showed him how beautiful love could be. She was the first woman who had truly amazed him to lengths he never knew could be reached. She was his happiness. And letting her go for the moon lamp would be a stupid mistake.

He had learned he didn't need his father's validation anymore and had to believe he was good enough.

What is it going to be, Robert?

The moon lamp, or Ella?

He took in a deep breath. "Four, nine, two, eight."

"Marvelous," Gerrard smiled, taking the gun off her temple. He put in the combination and opened the safe. Slipping his hands inside he brought out a large rock-like object with hues of red and black. There wasn't a name for it. But the natives in the land it was found, the Igbo land, called it Ezigbo. Meaning, precious.

One of it was enough to complete a thousand moon lamps. And Gerrard had it in his hands. Robert had given up what he wanted for a life with Ella Featherington

"This would fetch me millions." Gerrard laughed.

"I've told you the combination. Let us go."

"Don't be ridiculous, Robert." Gerrard smiled. "I'm taking the two of them. Victor, you know what to do."

"Mhmuhwi," Ella mumbled with the cloth in her mouth. She was too exhausted to say anything.

"Let's go," Victor said and two hefty henchmen grabbed Robert by the arm.

"No! No! You can't do that!" Robert struggled to no avail to set himself free from the strong arms of the goons carrying him.

Gerrard rolled his eyes. "I just did."

"Ella! Ella!" Robert stretched his hand out as he was dragged into a carriage. Victor joined in and pointed a gun at his face. The barrel gleamed as the sunlight hit it.

Victor bared his teeth, his dark skin oiled with sweat. "If you move, I'll shoot your brains out here and toss them out for your lover to see."

His body froze as the cool of the gun's tip came in contact with his neck. He couldn't die yet. Not when Gerrard had Ella with him. They both sat in silence as they rolled past the streets of Birmingham. Robert couldn't scream. He would be chicken brains if he did so. All he could hope was for someone to see him with the gun on his neck and alert the police.

That didn't happen.

They continued travelling for hours and soon, the smoke-covered back-to-back houses were superseded by meadows with sunflowers in bloom. Where were they taking him to?

The carriage halted and the door was opened by one of the two henchmen that dragged him into the vehicle.

"Move out," Victor said, pointing the gun at his head. It was hard to do so with the chains on his ankles but he managed to do the near impossible.

He looked around the beautiful meadows with sunflowers. Howard would've loved this place too. It was perfect for the countryside. They were in a clearing where most of the sunflowers were taken out.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the hole that was dug.

"Why is that hole there?" Robert asked, his heart racing.

"It's your grave. Move," Victor said, moving Robert's head with the tip of his gun.

Robert did as he was asked.

All Victor had to do was pull the trigger and he'll fall into the grave. The two henchmen sided it and picked up shovels.

This had to be a dream. There was no way his life could end. He hadn't lived his life. He was still young. What about Ella? What was Gerrard going to do to her? He couldn't leave this world without setting her free from that monster.

"Don't think of doing something stupid. I have the gun here."

Aye, Victor did have the gun. No matter how Robert looked at this situation, there was no way out of this.

"Can I at least smoke a cigar before you end me?" Robert asked, breathing shakily.

One of the henchmen advanced and handed him a cigarette. Who the frigg smoked a cigarette? He asked for a bloody cigar. Still, he didn't have a choice, did he?

He took it between his lips and the man lit it up for him. He drew in from the cigarette and the foul smell choked him.

Taking it out, he coughed out smoke. "Fuck, this shite is horrible."

"It's what we've got. I'm sorry," Victor said.

"It's alright." Robert looked up at the sky and watched the birds fly in circles.

"Any last words?"

"Aye," Robert nodded and tossed away the cigar. "They're quite much. I'll let you know when I'm done."

"Alright."

Robert closed his eyes, the warm tears streaming down his cheeks. It was funny how at the brink of death, he finally saw how much he wasted his life on one purpose which didn't yield any good results.

"I should've been a better man for Ella." She didn't deserve him. No man who truly loved a woman would go back to his old ways all in the name of grieving. Now she was with Gerrard and he was unable to do anything to save her. He had failed to protect her and it was a sin he would carry to his grave.

"I should've spent more time with my mother and sister." All his life, he had spent it trying to seek validation from his father. He didn't take out time to enjoy life with his mother and sister. He wondered how they would feel once they found him dead. He was sure they'd cry their hearts out. He highly doubted his father would feel sad. Even though he was the genesis of this tragic story.

Now Robert was about to die, he believed it was the best time to forgive his father. He would never get the chance to do so once he was six feet under the ground.

"I forgive my father for being a shitty parent." He sighed. "I wish he was a better father to me."

No matter how horrible his experience was with his father, he still loved him. If only things didn't turn out the way they did. Maybe Robert's death would make his father realise he should've treated him better. There was still hope for the Duke. There was always hope for everyone.

"I should've been a better friend for Howard."

He was about to die. Maybe he'll meet his friend in the afterlife. This was also a chance to forgive himself for the death of Howard. That way, he would have peace in the afterlife. His friend would want that for him.

He opened his eyes and looked up to the sky. "I forgive myself."

It was funny how he realised he had to forgive himself and his father when he was on the brink of death. Death truly made people see the truth.

If Robert had a second chance at life, he would have more faith in himself. He wouldn't spend most of his life seeking his father's validation and hating him. Robert would live his life to the fullest.

But that wouldn't happen. He was about to die.

"Are you done?" Victor asked

"Yes." Robert closed his eyes accepting his fate.

The gunshot was the last thing he heard before he was plunged into darkness.

*****