The First Heir

Wynn was wearing a pair of high heels. When she walked to Philip, her heels clicked on the ground like a piano recital. She looked panic-stricken.

She was a woman, after all. The smell of blood was in the air, and there were broken arms scattered all over the floor. Each severed limb was covered in blood. She wanted to vomit, but she held it in.

30 to 40 men were trying to chop someone up in broad daylight. The scene looked like a warzone, and the ground was painted with blood.

If Philip were not here, she could not imagine what would have happened instead.

Philip looked at Wynn who was standing next to him. There was a gentle smile on his face.

Just like that, under everyone’s watchful gaze, Philip reached out an arm and grabbed Wynn’s tiny waist.

Wynn shivered. She looked at Philip in disbelief.

Was Philip still her spineless husband?

When did he have these skills? He looked like an assassin in the movies.

Philip chuckled and grabbed Wynn’s hand. He asked, “Are you ready?”

Wynn furrowed her brows and let out a long exhale. “I’m ready.”

Then, Philip walked out with Wynn while everyone watched.

An unexplainable feeling rose into Wynn’s heart when Philip grabbed her hand. The worries in her heart vanished in an instant.

away and made way for them. None of

the air of the God of Death radiating from his

and pointed at Philip who

that,

With a thud, he

brothers who were backing away, Mitch’s heart was

forward. He

Clank!

then a broken blade flew across the air and landed

Mitch’s neck. The bloody knife slashed

was shaking uncontrollably. His left hand was still holding the knife in a chopping position, but the blade of the knife was already

in cold sweat and beads of it were rolling down his face like a waterfall. At this moment,

He had lost the will to

the beautiful woman. He had a knife against Mitch’s neck, yet his face was calm. It was as if he would take

knives. It broke his final line of defense,

threat of death so up close

normal reaction to being faced with

snorted. “Sir Mitch, I don’t think you can do well in the face of fear. Why? Do

sweat. He did not have the imposing manner he had just now. He stammered, “No… I won’t

so badly to kneel and beg for mercy

now. Why did he cross this God

dangerous for just two million

threatened Philip just now,