Chapter 19

The hall was in an uproar due to Dustin's actions. The timid guests had long since left, fearing they would be caught in the crossfire. Edward, unconscious and critically injured, had been immediately taken to the hospital by his bodyguards.

"This is troublesome," Dahlia said, a concerned frown creasing her face. Sir Spanner was infamous for his cruelty and ruthlessness; he certainly wouldn't let things go after his son had been so severely beaten. Dustin might not have much longer to live.

"Lyra, I want you to find out if this can be resolved peacefully," Dahlia said abruptly.

Lyra was puzzled. "What do Dustin's actions have to do with us, Ms. Nicholson? Why should we expend effort on his behalf?"

Dahlia's expression turned frosty. "He saved my life earlier. Should I just watch him die?"

"That's not what I meant," Lyra explained. "I just think it would be unwise to cross Sir Spanner. Moreover, no one would willingly get involved in this mess."

"It doesn't matter, we have to try," Dahlia said resolutely.

Lyra, having no choice, complied. She immediately began calling their connections. However, all the big bosses hung up in fright upon understanding the situation; none dared intervene with Sir Spanner involved.

"You see, Ms. Nicholson? It's not that we don't want to help, but that we can't," Lyra said, waving her hands.

"Try again," Dahlia ordered, frowning.

Lyra shook her head, starting to speak, then noticed Chris to the side. "Hey, maybe Mr. Nolan can help us."

"Me?" Chris asked, surprised, pointing to himself.

"Yes! Didn't you say your father is friends with Sir Spanner? Your father might be able to mitigate the situation, right?" Lyra asked expectantly.

"Err" Chris was taken aback. His father knew Sir Spanner, but their relationship was strictly business. Mitigation might be possible for a small matter, but Edward had been severely harmed. How could Sir Spanner be persuaded to refrain from retaliating?

"I'll owe you big time if you can help, Mr. Nolan!" Dahlia exclaimed earnestly.

Seeing her expectant expression, Chris found himself in a dilemma. This was his best chance to woo her, so he wasn't willing to let it pass.

"I can give it a try, but I can't guarantee anything. After all, it is Sir Spanner," Chris finally agreed after a moment's thought.

Dahlia visibly relaxed. "I understand. I'll be so grateful as long as Dustin doesn't lose his life!"

"Alright, I'll try my best," Chris said casually, nodding. It would be great if it worked, but there were no downsides if it didn't; Dahlia already owed him a favor.

Meanwhile, at a lounge in Mirage.

Natasha smiled meaningfully as she watched events unfold on a monitor. She had a clear view of Edward being beaten and almost gave in to the urge to clap and cheer. She had always found some members of the Spanner family annoying, but hadn't been able to act against them for certain reasons. Thankfully, Dustin hadn't disappointed; she was delighted with his performance.

"Ms. Harmon, I'm afraid Mr. Rhys lacks the influence to protect him from Trevor's wrath. Should we assist him?" Alfred Jarvis, a butler standing beside her, asked.

"Let's not be hasty. Have someone monitor him—it's too soon to say if Trevor outmatches him," Natasha said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Dustin's imposing figure on the screen.

"Oh? Do you think so highly of him?" Alfred asked, slightly bewildered.

Natasha smirked. "More like intrigued—I have a feeling he's full of surprises."

"You don't actually have feelings for him, do you, Ms. Harmon? Please keep in mind that you already have a fiancé—"

"Hm?" Natasha cast a chilly glance at Alfred, silencing him instantly.

"Remember this: You are in no position to comment on my personal affairs; focus on your duties."

"Yes, Ms. Harmon," Alfred muttered, a chill running down his spine.

Midnight at the district hospital.

Edward was instantly surrounded by a crowd as the emergency operating room doors opened and he was wheeled out on a hospital bed, his lower half completely bandaged. At the forefront stood a tall, brawny man with a full beard and mustache—East City's King of the Underworld, Trevor Spanner.

"Doctor! How's my son!" Trevor demanded.

The doctor sighed. "His life is not in danger, however, the damage to his genitals is extensive. I'm afraid he won't regain full function."

"What!" Trevor's expression changed drastically. Impotence?

"Don't you all know how to do your jobs? You can't even treat such a light injury?" Trevor yelled, grabbing the doctor by the collar.

"We've tried everything, sir, but the injury is too severe. Preserving his life was no easy task," the doctor replied exasperatedly. The doctor had never encountered such a tragic injury; the patient's genitals had been reduced to pulp. Had he not arrived in time, Edward might have died.

"You're useless! Get out of my sight!" Trevor bellowed, shoving the doctor away. If the best doctors couldn't help, his son was truly invalid.

"Talk! What the hell happened!" Trevor demanded angrily of the bodyguards. "Edward was fine, why has he been beaten to a pulp!"

One bodyguard mustered the courage to summarize events. Trevor's temper flared; he slapped the bodyguard across the face.

"Useless pieces of shit! What's the point in hiring you if you can't defeat one man!" Trevor roared, slapping each bodyguard repeatedly. The bodyguards lowered their heads, silent.

"Why are you still standing there? Go gather more men and bring that punk to me! I don't care who he is. I'm going to cut him to pieces for harming my son!"

Trevor's forces began mobilizing. A turbulent storm was brewing.