Chapter 1075

Not far away on the street, Jett hadn't gone far. Instead, he was slumped over the steering wheel of his Bentley, dozing off. In his drowsy state, he waited for the good news of Devin's triumph.

Just as he was nodding off, a chilly gust of wind jolted him awake. Rubbing his eyes, he noticed the sky had darkened. By now, Devin should have been back. Why hadn't he called?

His face darkened with irritation, but suddenly, he spotted a group of men emerging from a corner. The same construction laborers who had taken Devin to see the property were now counting cash, laughing as they swung machetes.

"Damn! Those guys were sitting ducks. Easiest payday we've had."

A burly man snarled, "It's all thanks to the boss hooking us up with this gig. I heard the guys we chopped down were big shots-bosses from the Four Big Families of Tarthy City!"

"No way!" One of the laborers paled. "Then, we've just stepped into some serious shit!"

"Relax." The brute scoffed. "The boss said some big shot's gunning for them. They messed with the wrong guy-this beatdown is on them. If all hell breaks loose, he'll handle it."

As they talked, their eyes landed on Jett's Bentley. They started whispering among themselves, then pointed at his car.

Jett's face was drained of color. In that instant, he realized what must've happened to Devin.

The laborers were closing in, wielding machetes and batons, their expressions dark with intent. Without hesitation, Jett stepped on the accelerator. The Bentley shot forward like an arrow.

Behind him, furious shouts erupted.

"Stop! Get out of the damn car!"

No way in hell was Jett stopping. Only an idiot would pull over now.

Once he'd completely shaken them

off, he brought the car to a stop. Trembling, he leaned out the window and inhaled the earthy scent of grass in the air. In that moment, for the first time, he truly felt what it

meant to be alive.

"Did we... fail?"

In a private hospital room, Patrick sat in a chair with a grim expression on his face.

Devin lay on the hospital bed, beaten beyond recognition. His entire body was wrapped in bandages like a mummy, with even the exposed skin marred by bruises and cats. His lower body was especially heavily bandaged, brutally stomped on by the laborers.

Word was he'd need major surgery, and even after recovery, permanent damage to his functions was likely. Those damn bastards had nearly ruined his chances of having children.

Devin was too weak to speak. Beside him, Jett hung his head in frustration and muttered, "Devin and I went to get backup, but we walked right into an ambush." Seeing Devin's condition, Jett secretly felt grateful he had managed to escape last night. Otherwise, he might have ended up the same way.

"What ambush?" Patrick asked in a low voice.

Jett was somewhat annoyed by Patrick's questioning tone, but he reluctantly answered, "Who else could it be? Jack's power here is massive. It could only be him."

Then, he launched into an exaggerated retelling of what had happened the day before, as if there was ever any doubt it was Jack's people behind it.

At the mention of Jack, Patrick's expression darkened further. But he only sighed softly and said, "I know you did your best. Focus on ngs passide.

recovering. handle things outside, Don't worry. I'll make sure ustices served."

"Thanks, Patrick," Jett replied flatly.

On the bed, Devin suddenly struggled to sit up, howling through tears, "Patrick, you've got to avenge me. That bastard wrecked me! I'm not even a man anymore. I swear, I won't rest until he's torn to pieces!"

"Calm down. I've got this," Patrick soothed, patting Devin's back.