My Child and I Married a Billionaire novel Chapter 220

Chapter 220: Chapter 220: President Vaughn, Spare Me

He was young, strong, tall, and long-legged. He put his full strength into a kick that sent President Miller flying several meters.

His head slammed into the leg of a sofa. President Miller was dazed and in pain, taking several seconds to recover before pointing at him.

"You... you... you... Wyatt Wynn, you fucking dare to hit me?"

"Hit you? I fucking want to kill you!"

As he spoke, Wyatt Wynn pulled out his phone. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. He snapped several photos of the man.

"It’s your unlucky day running into me! Just you wait, you’re dead!"

After taking the pictures, he shoved his phone into his pocket and crouched beside Cecelia Archer.

"Are you okay?"

Cecelia Archer’s dress had been pulled partially down. She desperately yanked it up, finally getting it back in place.

Seeing the familiar face of Wyatt Wynn, Cecelia Archer didn’t care if he was one of Damien Vaughn’s men. It was as if she’d found a lifeline.

"I don’t feel well. There was something in my drink. Please, get me out of here."

"Something in your drink? That son of a bitch! An old man like him, still using such dirty tricks!"

Filled with righteous indignation, Wyatt Wynn charged at President Miller again, ready to kick him. President Miller quickly raised his hands to cover his face.

"Stop hitting me! Stop! It wasn’t me! I didn’t drug her! I was here for a proper business meeting today. Who knew that bitch Lena would call me over as soon as I walked in? She’s the one who pushed her on me! I didn’t know she was with you, I really didn’t! Stop hitting me!"

Wyatt Wynn still landed another kick on his chest before turning to look at Damien Vaughn.

"Good thing you came tonight, this was too dangerous! You take her and go. I’ll take care of this old bastard!"

Damien Vaughn stood at the door, his expression grim and solemn. The cold glint in his eyes was like an arctic glacier.

The moment he saw that old bastard next to Cecelia Archer, his scalp had gone numb. He was only just now starting to recover.

After Wyatt Wynn finished speaking, Damien Vaughn slowly stepped inside.

"No need. I’ll handle him myself."

Wyatt Wynn helped the staggering Cecelia Archer to her feet. When she realized Damien Vaughn had really come, she was overcome with embarrassment and shame. She couldn’t look at him, feeling she had no right to face him.

Damien Vaughn didn’t force the issue, ordering Wyatt Wynn to help her to a seat.

Wyatt Wynn helped Cecelia Archer sit on the sofa, while Damien Vaughn advanced on President Miller like the King of Hell himself.

Meeting that glacial gaze, President Miller was so terrified he propped himself up with his hands, scrambling backward into a corner.

"She’s your person, too? I’m sorry, President Vaughn, I really didn’t know! I was wrong, I was wrong! Spare me this once, please spare me!"

Damien Vaughn said nothing, stalking him step by step until he was backed into a corner with nowhere left to retreat.

President Miller scrambled to kowtow and bow to him.

"I was wrong, I was wrong. I’m sorry, President Vaughn, I’ll never do it again. I’m begging you, be the bigger person and spare me this once—ah!"

The moment his head hit the floor again, Damien Vaughn stomped his foot down on it.

He ground his heel into him as if crushing a clump of mud, putting all his strength into it and twisting his sole back and forth. President Miller shrieked and wailed in agony.

"Ah! It hurts! Mercy, President Vaughn! Have mercy, President Vaughn!"

Damien Vaughn lifted his other foot and kicked him viciously in the mouth.

"Oof!"

"Keep screaming."

President Miller was drenched in a cold sweat from the pain. Now he didn’t dare to make a sound, just whimpered as he endured it. Damien Vaughn kept his foot on him for a full five minutes, his anger only subsiding when the sole of his own foot began to ache.

He took out his phone and dialed 911 for President Miller.

"Do you still want to live?"

A sniveling, crying mess, President Miller sobbed, "Yes! I’m begging you, give me one more chance!"

"Fine. Go turn yourself in. Confess every single dirty deed you’ve ever committed, and I won’t touch your company or your family. Otherwise..."

He pressed down hard with his foot, and President Miller once again squealed like a pig.

"I’ll listen! I’ll do it! I’ll do as you say! Stop stepping on me! Please, stop!"

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