The First Heir

Philip’s eyes were cold. He sent a text message on his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He glanced at the Cadillac behind them, gave it a thought, and followed them into the car.

Intercontinental Hotel, Presidential Suite.

Philip followed the two bodyguards into the private room and saw eight burly men in it. They were all dressed in black suits and had an icy aura like they had been through a lot. It was frightening.

At the head of the round table sat a plump, middle-aged man tucking into a lamb hot pot.

Wynn sat beside him with her arms folded over her chest. Her icy expression looked slightly anxious.

Philip speculated. He saw through them at a glance.

The eight people looked like martial artists, so their fighting skills should be good.

As for the man who was eating hot pot, he might look plump, but there was something evil in his every move.

‘He’s a tough guy!’

However, it was all nothing to Philip.

‘A useless bum?

‘I’m sorry, I’m not one.’

He did not waste a year or two training with Reed.

He might not be as good as Rick, but at least he could defend himself.

Wynn was pleased to see Philip in the private room, but she was also worried. She immediately got up and asked, “You’re here. Just by yourself?”

Phil not see

did he not bring

smiled gently. “It’s all right. I can handle it

She kept winking at him, but Philip did not look at her. He went straight to the round table

no choice but to sit down too. However, she kept kicking him under the table

in the South River District.

reminded with a worried look in

such

An obvious threat!

up the chopsticks from the table, dipped a piece of lamb into the boiling hot pot,

Wynn was dumbfounded.

my husband

was Mitch Potter, the leader of the fraternity that was one of the top five underground

and lives on his

and diabolical. He handled

fish in the river just because

Even the authorities could not do anything

was the South River

far beyond

ate slowly, ignoring Mitch who sat

wipe his mouth and drank a glass of

there’s one kind of person in the world I

with a sneer. “A deadbeat

another slice of lamb and said with amazement, “This meat

sank. This was the first time someone

a smile, “Mr. Potter, my husband Philip is not a smooth talker.

raised his eyebrows. Dipping the sauce, he smiled and said,

glared at him and

he annoyed Mitch Potter,