Goodbye, Mr. Regret

Chapter 295

Timothy didn't so much as flinch.

Herbert's fist, thrown with all the force he could muster, connected hard with the side of Timothy's face.

Blood trickled from the corner of Timothy's mouth.

Unhurried, Timothy raised his thumb and wiped the blood away.

He didn't fight back. Herbert, seeing that, suddenly found the urge to keep swinging just draining out of him.

Timothy pulled a wet wipe from the table and slowly dabbed at the blood on his fingertips, oddly struck by a fleeting appreciation for the old man's scheming. At least now he knew one thing: Jessica genuinely cared about The Wheeler Group.

He stood up, taking his time. Herbert was tall-six-foot-one, maybe a touch more. At that height, anyone could be intimidating.

But Timothy, at six-foot-two and carrying the unmistakable air of someone born with every advantage, still managed to overshadow Herbert.

"Fine by me. But I don't take hits for nothing. Every punch costs The

her anger boiling over at Timothy's relentless talk

Herbert aside, and slapped Timothy across the face. Then, with quick, practiced hand signs, she spat out: "And what about me? If I

his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Every muscle in his body seemed

you come tonight. Look at you-making such a scene I haven't even had a chance to eat. Dinner's cold, my appetite's gone. Go cool off, and make

Jessica's hand, spitting out two

Jessica

choice but to

let her own decisions drag Herbert

gripping her other hand. "You're not

all over his face-fear that if she went back, he'd never see her free again, that she'd

stepped forward and clamped down on Herbert's wrist. "Touch her again, and I swear you'll never hold a scalpel as long as

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