Chapter 124
George, a middle-aged office worker, was no match for him.
Jack, hardened by years of physical labor, was strong as an ox. He forced George to the ground, pinning him down so tightly he could barely breathe.
George struggled desperately—only to take a solid punch straight to the face.
The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Before he could even react, a barrage of fists came crashing down.
"You dare hit my wife?! I’ll beat you to death, you bastard! Let’s see if I don’t kill you!"
Jack rained blow after blow onto him.
George could only shout for help, his voice breaking, "Tommy! Tommy! Get over here! Help me! Your father’s going to be beaten to death!"
Almost as soon as he called out, Tommy appeared.
The moment George saw him, hope flared in his eyes.
My son is here... he’ll help me.
But Tommy had only come because he heard the commotion.
"Dad! You—" Tommy’s expression changed as he saw George pinned to the ground, and he instinctively stepped forward.
Before he could act, Vanessa grabbed his arm, her face pale with pain.
"Tommy... my stomach... it hurts so much..."
Tears streamed down her face, making her look fragile and pitiful.
Tommy hesitated.
He looked at George... then at Vanessa.
Caught between the two, he wavered.
And in the end, he avoided his father’s gaze.
The light in George’s eyes slowly dimmed.
A cold wave of regret surged through his chest, swallowing him whole.
The son he had doted on for years... the one he had cherished above all else... had abandoned him for another woman.
This is my son? He’s worse than an animal.
At that moment, George suddenly thought of Wendy.
If it were Wendy, she would never have done this. She would never have stood by and let her father be beaten.
And Suzy...
For the first time in a long while, George thought of his other daughter—the one he had long since forgotten.
Only now, in the worst possible moment, did he remember how good his daughters had been.
Jack sneered as he struck him again. "Hah. So that’s your son? Pathetic as hell."
Fiona, meanwhile, had no awareness of what was happening on the other side.
She was completely entangled with Margaret.
Slap after slap landed on her face. The ringing in her ears grew so loud she could barely hear anything at all.
"Ah! Let go of me! Let go! Stop hitting me—please, stop!" Fiona screamed in agony.
"Mom!"
A figure suddenly rushed forward, shoving Margaret away and shielding Fiona.
It was Patrick.
His sudden intervention stunned both Margaret and Jack.
Margaret snapped, furious. "Patrick! What are you doing? Move aside!"
But the boy spread his arms and stood firm.
He glanced at Fiona, curled up in pain, his expression conflicted.
"Stop... If this goes on, someone’s going to die."
Margaret stared at him in disbelief. "Patrick! Have you lost your mind?! That woman just hit your mother—and now you’re defending her? What did I raise you for?!"
Pain and struggle flickered across Patrick’s face, but he didn’t move.
"Mom... that’s enough. We’re still family by marriage. If things go too far, there’ll be no turning back."
"Patrick, have you gone crazy?! Why are you protecting her?! That bitch doesn’t need your protection! Move aside—now!"
Mother and son stood locked in a tense standoff, neither willing to back down.
Behind Patrick’s slender frame, Fiona stared at him—and suddenly, a twisted impulse surged within her.
Of course she knew why he was protecting her.
Because... after he moved into the villa, the two of them had crossed a line.
Patrick had a taste for older women. Though Fiona was no longer young, she had taken good care of herself and still retained a certain charm.
A strange laugh bubbled out of her throat, and she spat out a mouthful of blood.
Pointing at Patrick, she screamed, "Why is he defending me? Of course he’s defending me! Because he’s slept with me! While your Sanders family was shamelessly living off our food, your precious son climbed into my bed!"
Silence fell—heavy and absolute.
Jack’s fist froze midair.
Margaret’s mouth dropped open, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.
George forgot how to breathe, staring at Fiona in utter disbelief.
Even Tommy and Vanessa, who had just started to walk away, stopped dead in their tracks.
Vanessa’s hands clenched into tight fists. She tried desperately to steady herself, but her body trembled uncontrollably.
"You shameless old whore! Spouting nonsense? I’ll tear your mouth apart!"
Margaret was the first to snap out of it—and she completely lost control.
With a shriek, she lunged at Fiona again, this time with murderous intent.
Her son had been seduced by this older woman—this was a thousand times worse than stolen supplies!
Her son was only nineteen!
How could this wretched woman stoop so low?!
Jack’s face turned as dark as a storm cloud. One look at his son’s deathly pale expression told him everything—what Fiona said was very likely true.
"Damn it!"
With a furious roar, he brought his fist down again onto George. "Can’t even control your own wife? Letting that filthy woman seduce my son!"
The chaos escalated once more.
Even Suzy, watching through the surveillance feed, was stunned.
What the hell...?
How did it turn into this?
Patrick and Fiona—together?!
And yet... thinking about it, it almost made sense.
Fiona had never had much of a moral compass. Back when George was still married to his first wife, Fiona had already been involved with him.
Wendy and Tommy themselves were living proof of that affair.
Not to mention, Fiona had a history—years ago, she had relied on her looks to juggle multiple men before ultimately settling with George.
If she had possessed even a shred of decency, she would never have broken apart someone else’s family.
Now that George was older and increasingly incapable—relying on medication just to keep up—it wasn’t entirely surprising that Fiona would be drawn to someone younger like Patrick.
As for Patrick, the truth laid bare left him frozen in place.
The one-sided beating continued.
Only when both George and Fiona were beaten to the brink—too weak even to groan, sprawled across the cold floor like lifeless husks—did the violence finally subside.
The room fell quiet, filled only with heavy, ragged breathing.
Jack wiped the blood from his fists, his gaze sweeping over the wreckage.
Margaret, hair disheveled and eyes blazing, glanced at the couple lying limp on the ground.
And in her mind... a cruel thought began to take shape.