Chapter 702

Chapter 702:

Coyle staggered as if struck, his face draining of color.

His heir—his only son—was destroyed.

It felt like the sky had cracked open and come crashing down.

Briley rushed to his side, catching his arm.

“Dad! Are you alright?”

But Coyle couldn’t answer. Words abandoned him. His lungs refused to draw breath.

There was only the crushing weight of devastation pressing on his chest.

Hours blurred into a sleepless night. At dawn, Sutton finally stirred.

His eyes fluttered open—and then he saw it.

“My leg… What—where’s my leg?” His voice rose into a raw, animal scream. “No—no! It’s gone! They took my leg! They’ll pay for this! I’ll make them pay!”

Coyle stood at his son’s bedside, trembling, tears silently streaking his weathered face.

“Sutton… don’t be afraid,” he choked out, gripping his son’s hand. “I’m here. And I swear—I’ll make them pay for every drop of blood.”

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Sutton clutched his father’s arm, desperation turning into fury.

“Revenge, Dad! You have to get revenge for me! It was Noah!” Sutton’s voice cracked with rage and disbelief. “That bastard—he’s not dead! He’s alive! He’s Patrick! Patrick Noel is Noah! He did this to me! He’s the one who ruined me!”

The words slammed into Coyle like a punch to the chest, Patrick… was Noah?

His blood ran cold. His mind raced.

“Shut your mouth!” Coyle barked. “You’re delirious—how could Patrick possibly be Noah? Have you completely lost your senses?” Coyle tried to hide the shock within him.

If it was true…

If Noah had survived…

And if he knew what they had done three years ago…

Then his entire family was already living on borrowed time.

Rage boiled in Coyle’s throat. He nearly choked on it.

Meanwhile, Sutton clung to his father like a man drowning, his voice rising into a manic plea.

“I swear it’s true, Dad! I saw his face! I know it was him! He came after me—he made me like this!” Tears streamed down Sutton’s face, raw and uncontrollable.

“You have to believe me! You have to get revenge for me!” Coyle stared at his son, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to dismiss it. Call it trauma-fueled nonsense.

But Sutton’s eyes—wild, glassy, desperate—weren’t the eyes of a liar.

Something inside Coyle twisted.

If Noah was still alive… Then who was in the urn?

He took several slow breaths, gripping his cane like a lifeline. Then, with forced calm, he said, “Tell me everything. Exactly what happened. No skipping details.”

Sutton’s breath rattled in his chest. His gaze was unfocused, distant. He began recounting the events of the previous night in detail.

Coyle listened, his face growing darker with every word.

But when he heard Sutton mention that Patrick called him “Mr. Wall,” Coyle’s heart instantly lifted.

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