A Vow of Deception, A Vow of Revenge novel Chapter 199

Winona took a few steps forward but stopped short once she could make out the man's face.

Jude.

The bodyguard had just told her that a badly injured man had collapsed near the villa and that they'd found him. He'd even claimed the man was Jude, the youngest son of the Quincy family.

Winona hadn't quite believed it—she'd assumed the bodyguard must have been mistaken.

But now, looking at him, she realized it really was Jude.

Was this karma finally catching up to him for all his misdeeds?

"What should we do, miss?" one of the bodyguards asked.

Winona frowned slightly.

To be honest, she didn't like Jude at all. But seeing someone she didn't have any deep grudge against lying there bleeding—she couldn't just let him die.

Besides, Jude was connected to Celia.

Who knew? Maybe he'd be useful to her in the future.

After a moment's thought, Winona said, "Go get the doctor and patch him up. Just make sure he doesn't die. After everything he's done, a little pain is probably what he deserves."

"Yes, ma'am."

They'd brought a doctor with them on this trip, who was staying in a nearby house.

So, after the call, the doctor arrived quickly.

A few bodyguards carried Jude to a ground-floor bedroom, where the doctor began working on his wounds.

The living room was already thick with the smell of blood, making Winona feel uneasy.

She returned to her own room, intending to call Elvis and let him know what happened. But remembering he'd gone out on business, she didn't want to interrupt him, so she just sent a message instead.

…

At the hotel, Eamon sat stiffly in his chair, surrounded by a group of burly men. He tried hard not to let his fear show.

"Who the hell are you people?" he demanded, eyes blazing with anger. "Who gave you permission to break into my room? What do you want?"

No matter how many times he asked, none of the men answered.

The punches landed hard, pain exploding through Eamon's body. He flung his arms up, not even sure what to protect, and could only yell incoherently, "What are you doing?! I'm a citizen of Aldoria—you're jeopardizing international relations! I'm going to file a protest with the embassy, do you hear me? A protest!"

"Go ahead," Lorenzo replied coldly. "Let's see if the embassy wants to protect an attempted murderer like you."

He kept up the beating as he spoke, making Eamon shriek in pain.

Just then, a colder voice cut through the chaos.

"That's enough."

At the sound, Lorenzo stopped at once, stepping back with his hands at his sides.

Eamon finally had a chance to catch his breath. He gulped air, shaking from pain, his vision swimming. Through the haze, he saw who had entered—and a fresh wave of dread washed over him.

Elvis.

How could he not be terrified?

His own company, his influence—he was nothing compared to Tyson, and even Tyson was deeply wary of Elvis. So what chance did he stand?