Revenge is Best Served… After Reborn

Jenna stared at Lennon's portrait, childhood memories rushing back. She remembered how Lennon had always taught her the importance of being a strong and independent woman, how he trained her in martial arts, and how he imparted wisdom on self-defense and life skills.

One time, her grandfather took her to the greenhouse, full of blooming roses, and said, "Loving someone is like tending to flowers; with care and attention, they blossom beautifully."

He taught her how to garden and nurture flowers. Back then, she was just a bud herself, but twenty years later, that little girl had grown into the CEO of Devonport Corporation, becoming the dazzling rose her grandfather had envisioned.

"Grandpa, rest in peace," Jenna whispered, tightening her grip on Adler's hand.

Meanwhile, at the Burke Estate, Rick glanced at Gordon, who was staring out the window. "Sir, all the guests have arrived at the funeral. Aren't you going?"

"No," Gordon said coolly. "Someone else will go in my place."

"Do you mean...?"

"Harold should be back by now."

Outside, the weather changed abruptly. The clear blue sky turned grey, clouds covered Devonport, thunder rumbled in the distance, and a light drizzle began.

The funeral guests had already said their goodbyes to Lennon. Just then, a figure with a white flower pinned to their chest appeared at the entrance. "Am I... too late?"

Everyone turned to see Harold standing at the door. His once red hair was now dyed black, and he looked different-his skin tanned and his hair cropped short. The previously wild and flamboyant Harold now seemed reserved and composed. Sophie didn't even recognize him at first.

"Harold, the Aldridge kid, what are you doing back?" Jenna asked, puzzled. Wasn't Harold supposed to be in the army? How had he returned so soon?

Sophie asked, "Is your mission complete?"

Harold nodded, "Yes, it's done."

Adler, confused, looked at Colby. "Harold is back, Colby. Shouldn't you have known about this?"

Colby frowned. "He's not my soldier."

Adler thought for a moment. "Right, with so many old soldiers in the Costello family, it could be anyone's."

Harold glanced at the white flower in his hand. "Looks like I'm late. Has... the burial already taken place?" Adler replied, "Yes, you're too late. If you'd been any later, we'd be starting the feast."

Harold's face showed a rare hint of confusion. "A feast?"

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"Yes, we're using this chance to have a big meal," Adler explained. "Grandpa loved lively gatherings. How could we send him off without a meal in his honor? I believe Grandpa would have wanted his funeral to be a grand celebration. We should send him off with joy in our hearts."

Jenna nodded and added, "Exactly, which is why I've already ordered twenty pounds of vodka. I wonder if that be enough for Grandpa underground."

"You want to drink Grandpa to death?"

"Grandpa had many friends! Among his old comrades, he outlived them all. How could they not toast him underground? Twenty pounds is actually quite conservative Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

Harold: "..."