Chapter 1108

“I’m telling you, those two are in serious trouble,” Leroy muttered.

Christina said blandly, “They’ve made too many enemies, and now they’re targets of a bounty from the Goldings. As long as Andrew stays in the capital, it’s only a matter of time before someone takes him out.”

Irene let out a cold laugh. “Good! He had it coming. Didn’t he strut around like a king back in Jayrodale? Now look at him – tail between his legs, hiding like a mutt in the capital!”

Right then, someone pounded violently on the suite door.

Irene shouted, “Who the hell is banging on the door like that? Leroy, see who it is. This hotel’s got some nerve – I’m filing a complaint and charging them for my emotional trauma and stress damages!”

Leroy was just as annoyed. Cursing under his breath, he stomped toward the door.

However, before he could reach for the handle, the entire door flew inward with a deafening crash – kicked clean off its hinges. The heavy panel smashed straight into his face, knocking him down and cracking open his scalp.

“Motherfu-“ he howled, clutching his bleeding head.

But before he could finish, a wave of men stormed the room like a tidal wave. They wasted no time and launched into a full-blown beatdown.

Within seconds, Leroy’s legs were snapped, and he was curled up on the floor screaming, arms wrapped around his head in agony.

Meanwhile, Irene and Christina were both stunned, pale with terror.

Irene opened her mouth to scream, but a thug raised his hand and slapped her across the face so hard she flew backward. The impact was brutal, and blood gushed from her nose and mouth. Within seconds, she passed out cold without making a sound.

Only Christina remained untouched, but she looked absolutely shaken.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she yelled, her voice trembling.

The thugs ignored her completely and continued kicking the near-lifeless Leroy like they were working out frustration on a punching bag.

His face was covered in blood, his eyes bulging in despair. He thought in terror, ‘Why me? What did I do to deserve this?’

Suddenly, a voice rang out. “Enough.”

Seth and Davon strolled into the room like they owned the place.

Seth smirked as he glanced around. “So this is all Andrew amounts to? Weren’t you talking big when you stood against me? Now look at you, crying like a pathetic loser. I thought you didn’t know fear, punk.”

Davon stepped up beside him, grinning. “Listen here, Andrew – getting beaten half to death doesn’t even begin to cover what you owe. You slapped me a few times, right? I’ll pay you back a hundredfold.”

Both men looked smug, basking in their imagined revenge.

But then, confusion flickered in Seth’s eyes. He finally realized that the guy bleeding on the floor was not Andrew, and the knocked-out woman on the ground was not Aspen either.

Not only that, the pretty girl who was still conscious was also not Aspen.

Seth’s face turned storm-cloud dark. “Goddamn it. We beat up the wrong people!”