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?”

not see

did he not bring

smiled gently. “It’s all right. I can

but Philip did not look at her. He went straight to the round table and sat down without a care in the

choice but to sit down too. However, she kept kicking him under the table

South River District. They’re here

a worried look

would invite such a gangster to come forward. This was

An obvious threat!

look. Then, he unceremoniously picked up the chopsticks from the table, dipped a piece of lamb into the boiling

Wynn was dumbfounded.

my husband

opposite Philip was Mitch Potter, the leader of the fraternity that was

blood and

was cruel and diabolical.

he even fed his wife to the fish in the river just because his

was still alive and well. Even the authorities could not do anything to

the

was far

ignoring Mitch who

was full. He picked up the napkin to wipe his mouth and drank a glass of red wine. There was amusement

that there’s one kind of

a sneer. “A deadbeat spineless

of lamb and said with amazement, “This meat is

sank. This was the first time someone had

saying with a smile, “Mr. Potter, my husband Philip is not a smooth talker. Don’t

the sauce, he smiled and said, “Honey. This meat is

and hinted

he annoyed Mitch Potter,