Chapter 868

Chapter 868:

Noah strode in, his face dark, his presence thunderous. His posture made it clear—he was in a foul mood, likely after a setback.

Jack stiffened and quickly stepped aside, arms straight at his sides. Now was not the time to provoke his boss.

Noah loomed over Nathan, eyes cold with scorn, as if he were staring at something beneath him. Without a word, he raised his polished shoe and delivered a brutal kick to Nathan’s side.

A pained howl escaped Nathan as he curled in on himself, gasping.

Noah’s voice came low and flat.

“Get him out of my sight.”

Jack gave a single nod.

“Right away, sir.”

He bent down and hoisted Nathan upright with zero effort, as if lifting a sack of grain.

Nathan hung limp in his grip, too weak to resist.

Out in the corridor, Jack let him go.

As he gazed at Nathan’s battered face, a rare flicker of regret crossed his otherwise impassive expression. But orders were orders.

“My apologies, Mr. Higgins.”

Nathan hit the floor with a dull thud, groaning.

Unexpectedly, tears spilled down his cheeks. He made no effort to hide them.

Instead, he sat there, weeping—shattered.

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“You’re all monsters!” he cried, voice cracking. “Just street thugs in designer suits! Does the law mean nothing to any of you?”

His sobs grew louder.

“Patrick is a monster! And Sadie… she’s no different!”

“She signed off on this arrangement too! It’s not just on me! So why am I the only one paying the price—beaten down, humiliated? What did I ever do to deserve this?” Nathan cried out.

Jack hesitated, his brows lifting slightly in surprise. There was something uniquely theatrical about Nathan’s meltdown that, oddly enough, suited him.

He approached with calm composure.

“Mr. Higgins, you’re in bad shape. Let me take you to the hospital.”

Nathan froze mid-sob and lifted his bruised, blotchy face. His glare was venomous. With a sharp swipe, he knocked Jack’s hand away.

“Save your fake concern! I don’t need it!”

Clumsily, he pushed himself up from the floor, legs trembling but full of stubborn resolve. Sniffling, he staggered toward the elevator without a backward glance—drained, disheveled, and deeply disgraced.

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