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< Chapter 110 Prep’s Down
Chapter 110 Philip’s Downfall
Philip’s voice quivered as he spoke, “What’s… what’s the deal between you and Aurora?”
Cyril’s lips curved into a smile, and he brushed a gentle kiss beside my ear.
With tender care, he trailed his kisses downward, finally pausing at my collarbone.
Then, lifting his gaze to meet Philip’s, he asked, “Do I need to spell it out for you?”
Philip looked as if he’d been struck dumb by lightning. I could see the terror flashing in his eyes as he wildly gestured toward the shadows, seemingly trying to signal his snipers to act swiftly.
But, alas, the very claws he had once prided himself on had already been torn away. Those snipers, who had followed his orders and claimed countless lives, had already fallen.
As the seconds ticked by, the color drained from Philip’s face until he turned deathly pale, as though every
drop of blood had been siphoned from his body.
Cyril let out a dark chuckle, his voice dripping with mockery.
I watched as he pulled a wooden badge from his pocket, its surface stained with faint traces of blood.
With an elegant motion, he flung the badge in front of Philip. The moment Philip’s eyes landed on it, his entire
demeanor shifted to one of utter bewilderment.
He shook his head in disbelief, unable to utter a single word.
Cyril smirked and asked, “Is this what you’re after? Philip, quit looking. Your snipers are already in hell,
waiting to reunite with you!”
Those final words obliterated Philip’s mental defenses. He snapped into a fit of rage, screaming like a madman, “How is this possible! Cyril, aren’t you part of the Hartman family? I’ve had a long–standing partnership with them! Are you really going to turn against me over a woman?”
Desperation etched across his face as he pleaded, “Do you even know how much revenue I bring to the Hartman family? Cyril, you’re not a fool. I know Charles has never favored you. If you just obey me now and help me control Aurora, I’ll make sure you become the heir!”
He seemed convinced that the offer he’d made was too good to refuse, and he stared at Cyril expectantly
after speaking.
Cyril merely smiled faintly, but before he could respond, several muffled chuckles erupted from the shadows.
Philip froze, turning his head robotically to see a group of unfamiliar faces.
When he noticed their attire, a shadow of despair crossed his face. His voice trembled as he asked, “You guys… you’re with Knightfall Group?”
“That’s right,” one of the men with a blue medal said with a smirk, “Nice guess. Bet you didn’t see that
coming!”
Philip snapped his head toward Cyril, his voice trembling, “You… you’ve betrayed the Hartmans?
The man with the blue medal wasn’t having any of that. “Betrayal? What kind of nonsense is that? The Hartman family’s petty little empire is nothing compared to what Lord Hartman could achieve. Why would the
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Chapter 110 Philip’s Down
even bother with them?”
Hearing the title, I frowned a little.
Knightfall Group was known for its strict pecking order, based entirely on the color of their medals.
Poires
The hierarchy mirrored the rainbow’s colors, from lowest to highest: red, orange, yellow, green, light blue, blue,
and purple.
Above those were silver and gold.
There was only one medal of each color.
The gold medal represented the highest authority, the one who called the shots in the Knightfall Group.
The silver medal was reserved for the brains behind every weapon the group produced.
And now, a man with a blue medal was calling Cyril “Lord“…
That meant Cyril was at least a purple medal holder–maybe even higher.
This blew my mind!
I stared at him in disbelief. No wonder Prosperity Group and Knightfall Group’s deal went off without a hitch. Had Cyril been the one making it all happen?
Just how much had he done for me behind the scenes, without me even realizing it?
At that thought, my heart was pounding like crazy.
I couldn’t find the words, but in that moment, all I wanted was to wrap my arms around Cyril.
And so I did. I turned around and pressed my face into his chest, feeling the heat of his body against my skin.
Cyril went completely still, his muscles tensing under my touch.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and gentle.
I shook my head, my voice muffled by his chest, “Yes… I just really missed you.”
I looked up at him, and as soon as the words left my lips, Cyril was totally stunned.
This man, who was always so decisive and commanding, now had his ears turning red.
Was he actually blushing?
I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips, but before I could say anything, the man with the blue medal let out a yelp like he’d just seen a ghost.
The sound jolted me out of the moment, and I suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment hit me.
I quickly pulled away from Cyril, who gave a mildly irritated look at the blue–medal man, Jack.
“You two… carry on,” Jack stammered, “I didn’t see a thing!!”
With that, he turned his head, as if to emphasize his words, and snapped at the group of yellow and green badge holders behind him, “What are you all standing around for? Clean up the scene and drag out the bodies of those snipers! Get to it!”
As soon as he spoke, everyone scrambled to act, moving with urgency.
Meanwhile, Philip stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with panic. He wasn’t stupid; he could see what I saw.
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Chapter 110 Philip’s Down
This realization only deepened the terror in his heart.
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Philip finally snapped. He tried to turn and run, but his movements were awkward and sluggish–his leg had been shot by me. Jack effortlessly pinned him to the ground in one swift motion, wrenching his arms behind his back with such force that I could hear the sickening c***k of bones breaking.
Philip lifted his head, his face streaked with blood. Jack had been brutal, smashing Philip’s head against the ground, and now the blood was pouring freely down his face.
I took slow, measured strides toward him, and Philip’s breath quickened as he stared at me, wide–eyed, his
chest heaving.
I crouched down in front of him, twirling the pistol idly on my finger. “Philip Hodge,” I said, my voice calm yet cutting, “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of time to think about how you’re going to tell me about 0687, haven’t
you?”
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