Next to Eric stood a distinguished, middle-aged man in his mid-forties. His appearance was quite similar to Eric's.

He was the chairman of Seafare Trading and was Eric's father, Samson Yates.

Additionally, on the top of Eric's hospital bed, there was a middle-aged woman dressed in luxurious clothes. The woman's eyes had turned red from crying. "Who is so cruel to have beaten my son up like this?" She was Eric's mother, Cecelia Drew.

Her heart was in pain. Evidently, a mother's children were her most beloved. At that moment, seeing that her child had been hurt by someone else, Cecelia's heart was bleeding!

"Eric, tell me, who hurt you? I'll ask your father to capture that person!"

Cecelia wanted to hold Eric's hand but was afraid of hurting him, so she could only watch anxiously.

A stream of tears fell from the corners of Eric's eyes. His chapped lips trembled as he said, "Dad, you must avenge me! It's Philip Clarke, that spineless piece of trash! Kill him for me! I'm a cripple now!" Samson had not said a single word ever since he appeared in the ward. Nevertheless, his face was extremely dark.

Philip Clarke?

Was he not a useless piece of trash?

Why did he do such a thing?

Was he tired of living?

"Samson, say something! Don't you feel bad that our son was beaten up by that worthless piece of trash? We must avenge our son! I want that b*stard to pay with his life!"

Cecelia was crying, but her eyes were filled with malice!

"Enough!"

Samson became annoyed with Cecelia and glared at her. "You're the woman of the house, but you don't even take care of your son properly. He causes trouble all the time. If he really didn't do anything in the first place, why did Philip do this to him?"

"What did you say? Isn't he your son too? Fine, Samson Yates, I must be blind to have followed you! My son is suffering..."

Cecelia stood up abruptly, pushed Samson aside, and started to make a scene.

Seeing his heartbroken wife and at son lying on the hospital bed, Samson felt rather distressed in his heart. Hence, he hugged Cecelia and said, "Okay, fine, stop crying already. I'll deal with this matter. I'll be sure to make Philip suffer ten times more pain than Eric."

Samson truly did not take that useless Philip seriously.

However, why did Philip dare take things so far?

Samson knew his son very well. He must have kept something from them.

Nevertheless, it did not matter.

Philip had to pay for it!

With that said, Samson turned around and left the ward.

On the other side, Bob arrived at the hospital right after Samson left.

When he saw Eric wrapped up in bandages, lying on the hospital bed, he flew into a rage. He hit his cane against the floor and bellowed, "Who did this to my grandson! I want him to pay tenfold!" When Eric saw Bob, he immediately burst into tears and started crying. "Grandpa, I'm a cripple now. It's Philip, he did this to me. Avenge me!"

When Bob heard that Philip was the culprit, he became flushed with anger. The hand holding his cane trembled as he said, "Okay, Eric, I'll capture Philip right now and break his bones. I'll avenge you!" Having said that, Bob brought a few men with him and sped aggressively through the night to Martha's home.

More than half an hour later, Philip received a call from Martha.

"Mom, it's so late, what's the matter?

Philip was in his small seventy to eighty square meters house, busy preparing the things to be used after Mila's surgery the day after. He had also just distributed tens of thousands worth of bonuses to his employees in group chats 940, 901, and 551 as a special reward to them.

"Philip Clarke, you've got some guts! Come back here right now!"

A loud shout was then heard. It was not Martha's voice on the other end of the line, but Bob Yates.

Philip frowned as he immediately realized something. He calmly said, "Bob Yates, are you here for Eric?"

"Very well, Philip Clarke, you dare call me by my full name? You're really insolent. Get the hell back here at once!"

Bob was absolutely livid. After saying that, he slammed the phone.

At the Old Johnston Manor, Martha and Charles stood in one corner as they trembled together.

They had no idea why the old man had turned up at their house in the middle of the night with so many men in tow.

He looked exceptionally furious.

Martha exchanged a glance with Charles as she cursed internally, 'D*mn Philip, he must have caused trouble again! This time, he even provoked the old man! Even if he doesn't die this time, he won't leave unscathed.'

Bob merely held the tiger head on his cane and sat stoically on the sofa with a grim expression on his face.

The entire room was permeated with a murderous aura.

Shortly after, Wynn returned home.

She had also received a call from her mother. As soon as she walked in, she saw her grandfather sitting on the sofa somberly "Grandpa, why are you here?" Wynn asked politely.

But!

Smack!

Bob raised his cane and struck Wynn's leg!

Wynn knelt on the ground in pain. Her face turned pale and big drops of sweat began to pour from her forehead.

"Grandpa?"

She did not understand why her grandfather was in such a mood. It was his first time beating her like that.

"Kneel! Kneel until Philip comes back!"

Bob shouted angrily, "Useless piece of trash! You took a wolf into the house! You're a disgrace!"

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