Chapter 7 by Lorelei Thunder
Considering that they had been family in the past, Woody held his anger at bay and forced himself not to retaliate. “Mom, must we make things so ugly between us?”
“Hah! Who’s your mother? Take a good look at yourself. Do you think you’re fit to call me Mom?”
Brutus raised Woody’s stack of black cards and mocked in disdain, “What a fucking joke! I’ve never even seen such cards! They must be fake! And this … What trash is this?”
He picked up the deerskin needle bag and took a brief glance at it, thinking it was just worthless junk.
“Give it back!” Woody was infuriated.
But not only did Brutus not give it back, he even threw it to the ground and stomped on it. “Trash! Just like you, you ex-convict!”
Woody could no longer hold back his anger. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles popped simultaneously.
“You asshole!”
A slap landed on Brutus’ face, sending him crashing to the ground with a loud smack. One of his cheeks instantly became red and swollen.
“You ingrate! I fucking went to prison for you. But not only do you not appreciate it, you even call me an ex-convict? Since your parents never taught you any manners, I’ll do it for them!”
“How dare you hit my son? You’ll pay for it!” Trudy shrieked, lunging at Woody with her claw-like nails.
Woody whipped around and shot her a fearsome gaze, cold and icy. “Get lost!”
What harrowing eyes! Trudy was so shocked that she blanched. Her legs trembled and gave way, and she fell to the ground weakly.
While Woody was distracted, Brutus grabbed the opportunity and picked a vase off the table. Then, with a twisted expression, he aimed it right at Woody’s head. “Go to hell!”
“Hold it right there!” As the voice rang out, an exquisite lady appeared at the doorway. There were a handful of muscular bodyguards behind her.
The lady had perfect features and a tall, shapely figure. Her full chest seemed to strain against her clothes, and her long, slender legs were clad in black stockings. Her looks trumped that of the top celebrities any time.
Brutus froze with the vase raised over his head. He didn’t know what was going on, so he dared not make any sudden moves.
“May I know who is Mr. Henderson?”
“I am Woody Henderson,” Woody answered.
“Greetings, Mr. Henderson!” Helen curtsied. She wasn’t the least bit concerned about whether her actions were appropriate. She was too excited and astonished to be bothered by anything else.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.
Helen knew through her father’s diary that the Majestic Ruler was very young. Still, she couldn’t help but be taken aback when she actually saw him in person.
The very next moment, her expression turned icy cold as she glared at Brutus with an eerily intimidating gaze. “You insolent bandit! How dare you treat Mr. Henderson with disrespect? Take him down!”
A few of Helen’s bodyguards rushed up and pinned Brutus to the ground.
If anything were to happen to Woody, who would treat her father?
“What are you guys doing? That bastard is nothing but an ex-convict who just got released from prison! He’s nothing but scum!
“Why are you showing him so much respect? You must have got the wrong person, or maybe you’ve been deceived by him!”
Trudy shouted fiercely, “We’re the ones you should be showing respect to! Release my son right this instant, or my daughter will make you regret your actions!”
Helen’s hand drew an arc in the air and landed squarely on Trudy’s face with such force.
With a loud smack, Trudy instantly saw stars. Her cheek stung with pain.
“How dare you hit my mother? Just you wait, you little bitch! I swear I’ll strip you naked and have my way with you on the bed! I’ll torment you so much you wish you were never born!” Brutus roared.
Helen frowned. Then, she turned to Woody and asked, “Mr. Henderson, what do you say?”
“Do as you deem fit!” Woody nonchalantly went to pick up his deerskin needle bag.
Helen understood what he meant by that. With an indifferent tone, she decisively gave her order, “Break his legs!”
“Hold it right there, you bitch! I am from the York family! I’m warning you, you’d better not touch my son, or you’ll regret it!”
However, Trudy’s warning fell on deaf ears. Two of Helen’s bodyguards aimed at each of Brutus’ legs respectively and stomped down at the same time.
“Who’s the one regretting now?” Helen thought.