Chapter 245

Zachary Deross drove the black sedan slowly forward, its window partially lowered to reveal the woman in the backseat wearing sunglasses. Her sharp features were accentuated by the dark frames, her crimson lips blazing under the sunlight like a warning sign. An aura of unapproachable authority radiated from her.

Through the window, she watched Vincent Ashcroft get knocked down repeatedly, only to stagger back up each time.

The men surrounding him were beginning to show fear.

"You're asking for death!" one man shrieked, delivering a brutal kick to Vincent's abdomen. His once-handsome face was now a bloody, unrecognizable mess.

Vincent crashed onto the pavement. The pain sharpened his awareness instead of dulling it.

Blood blurred his vision, but he clenched his teeth.

Survival depended solely on his ability to stand again.

Vincent Ashcroft Sr. stood at a distance, eyes locked on his son's battered form. He made no move to intervene—this trial required Vincent to endure through sheer willpower alone.

Vincent dragged himself upright, refusing surrender, fighting tooth and nail to live.

"Ahhh—" A feral roar tore from his throat as he summoned his last reserves of strength. He seized one attacker by the collar and unleashed a desperate counterattack.

Screams of agony pierced the air.

Evelyn Roland observed coldly. Five minutes later, half a dozen men lay scattered across the ground like broken toys. Vincent stood drenched in blood, the defiance in his eyes burning brighter than ever.

He swayed, then collapsed, utterly spent.

Zachary studied Vincent with newfound respect.

"Boss, he didn't disappoint you." Zachary recognized the shift in Evelyn's stance.

"Drive closer," she said tonelessly.

Zachary tightened his grip on the steering wheel, seeing his younger self in Vincent's struggle. He too had clawed his way up from nothing to earn his current position.

Sirens wailed in the distance as police surrounded Lucien Croix and his entourage.

"This bastard attacked us!" Lucien shouted furiously, pointing at the barely conscious Vincent. "He just got out of prison! Arrest him!"

The lead officer remained impassive. "Lucien Croix, you're under arrest for statutory rape of a minor."

Lucien's pupils contracted violently, all color draining from his face.

Who reported him?

His family's recent windfall had emboldened him—he'd taken any pretty girl to bed without question. That last one... he never asked her age.

A minor?

"Bullshit! I didn't do it!" Lucien screamed hysterically. Ten years minimum sentence. If they uncovered everything else, his life was over.

The officers hauled him away without ceremony.

Vincent finally released his tension, lying prone as he gulped air.

Click. Click. Click.

High heels approached with measured precision.

Vincent's fingers twitched. With immense effort, he pried open his blood-crusted eyelids, lashes fluttering as he struggled to focus.

Evelyn strode toward him.

Her crimson blazer cut severe lines against her frame, the short bob emphasizing her razor-sharp elegance. The staccato taps of her stilettos echoed like gunshots. Though her eyes remained hidden behind dark lenses, each step carried suffocating dominance.

Her regal bearing commanded involuntary submission.