On the Ruins of His Regret I Soar novel Chapter 225

His stare was direct, but her expression was one of genuine curiosity—wide-eyed, almost endearingly clueless.

Anthony George gave a reluctant nod.

Jessica looked away with a sigh. “It was such a coincidence. If you had been a minute earlier or later, I would’ve been done for. That Joe Brooks is a real piece of work.”

Treating George like an old friend, she launched into a rambling account of everything Brooks had said and done in the private room.

“…Wouldn’t you say he’s a total bastard?” she finished, looking to him for confirmation.

A dangerous glint appeared in George’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Hmph,” Jessica huffed. “He doesn’t even respect his female business partners. I can’t imagine how he treats ordinary women.”

“How do you want to deal with him?” Anthony George asked.

Jessica wanted him gone, erased from the earth. But she knew that was just anger talking. Murder was illegal, and besides, Brooks was now in the hands of George’s men. She couldn’t cause any trouble for him.

“Just… beat him up badly,” she said tentatively. “But don’t kill him.”

Anthony George grunted in agreement. He finished applying ointment to her bruises. “I’ll take you back.”

Jessica nodded, and he lifted her into his arms again. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. As they were leaving, a waiter saw George and immediately snapped to attention. “Mr. Geo—”

George shot him a sharp look, and the word died in the waiter’s throat.

He carried Jessica past without breaking stride.

“Someone was trying to greet you,” Jessica whispered.

“I know,” he replied.

“Then why were you so cold?” she thought, but kept it to herself.

Anthony George carried her right back to the door of her private room, making no effort to be discreet.

…

In the utility closet, Joe Brooks lay slumped in a corner, barely conscious.

George walked in. He’d taken off his suit jacket, tossing it somewhere. Dressed only in a black shirt and trousers, he advanced with his eyes downcast, his expression hidden.

Brooks’s face was swollen like a pig’s head. He peered through a tiny slit of an eye at the approaching figure. “I was wrong,” he whimpered, his voice weak. “Please, let me go… I’m begging you…”

George flexed his hands, cracking his knuckles.

His bodyguards understood the signal. They stepped out and closed the door behind them.

A moment later, blood-curdling screams echoed from within the room.

Two passing waiters heard the noise. “Did you hear that screaming?” one whispered. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

“Didn’t you see the bodyguards at the door?” the other replied in a low voice. “They’re with the George family. Whatever is happening in there, it’s not our business. People like that are untouchable. Even if someone dies, you can bet they deserved it.”