Chapter 4

"So he's just an adopted son."

A flicker of wariness flashed through Bill's eyes, quickly replaced by contempt.

He casually straightened his tie, then looked down at Jack like he was looking at a rat in the sewer.

"Jack, right?" Bill sneered, wrapping his arm around Isabella's waist and deliberately squeezing her body, looking at Jack provocatively. "Isabella was your father's wife, that's true. But your father is dead now, and she is my woman."

At these words.

Isabella's face turned slightly pale, but she didn't refuse Bill's embrace. Instead, she looked at Jack with a condescending tone, "I'm sad about William's death too, but I have to move on with my life. You can't stop me from going to someone better. For William's sake, I can overlook your rudeness today."

"Leave now, and I'll give you money to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

Jack ignored them both.

Holding William's photo, he walked right past them to a long table, pushed aside the items on it, and placed the photo squarely in the center.

This table, in the middle of the room, was supposed to be Bill and Isabella's main table.

Now it held William's photo.

Anyone who didn't know better would think this was William's funeral.

Seeing this, Bill's face twisted with rage again, his eyes full of venom as he glared at Jack.

But Jack continued doing as he pleased.

He picked up an expensive bottle of red wine and easily pulled out the cork with one hand.

Jack found a glass.

He poured some wine and placed it in front of the photo.

Then he held the bottle and gently clinked it against the glass, making a crisp sound, before tilting his head back and downing the wine. The liquid flowed down his throat, but couldn't extinguish the coldness in his heart.

He drained it in one gulp.

Jack slammed the bottle heavily on the table with a dull thud.

Then.

He looked at William, his eyes moist, and said, "Father, I'm back..."

"But I..."

"I came back too late..." Jack's voice was low and hoarse, with a barely noticeable tremor.

After doing all this.

Jack slowly turned around.

The entire hall fell silent.

The guests looked at the man on stage and felt an inexplicable sense of pressure.

Jack looked at Isabella, his eyes calm but filled with endless coldness.

"I don't need your money."

"I came back today to get the truth from you."

"Tell me, did my father kill himself, or was he murdered?"

Jack asked Isabella seriously.

"...It was suicide, of course. The police already concluded that William died from cardiac arrest that prevented his heart from pumping blood effectively." Isabella kept her head down, speaking softly, even with a sobbing voice, as if she was sad about William's death.

"Why didn't you take him to the hospital?" Jack asked again.

"It happened suddenly, and it was late at night. No one knew. I only found out the next morning when I woke up, and by then... it was too late."

"Is that so?"

Jack's lips curved up in a cold smile.

"Then let me ask you, my father has only been dead for a week, and you couldn't wait to marry this guy. You must have been having an affair all along, right?"

"You... you're talking nonsense!"

Isabella shrieked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, her fake grief instantly vanishing, replaced by hysterical madness. "I was devastated after William died! Bill was there to comfort me! We're true love! A meeting of souls! What would a lowly adopted son like you understand?"

Jack sneered and pulled out a stack of photos from his pocket, casually tossing them into the air.

The photos fell like snowflakes in the center of the banquet hall, some landing at guests' feet, others floating onto the stage.

Isabella instinctively looked down, and with just one glance, she felt like she'd fallen into an ice pit.

They were photos of her and Bill meeting secretly while William was still alive!

There were photos of them kissing half-dressed in William's bedroom, photos of them naked together on a yacht, and even pictures of them having sex in William's house on the night of his funeral!

"These photos... they're fake, they're fake! Don't look, don't look at them!" Isabella screamed, her voice shrill and piercing, completely tearing away her socialite facade.

She frantically tried to grab the photos like a madwoman.

But it was too late.

Her ugly true face had already been seen by everyone.

Jack walked up to her and stepped on one of the photos she had just picked up, looking down at Isabella from above. "I don't care about you being with this man."

"But if I find out William's death had anything to do with you, I will never let you go!"

As he spoke, Jack grabbed Isabella's hand and pulled her up from the ground, pointing at William's photo and demanding, "Tell me, was William's death suicide or murder?"

This angry shout made everyone's heart skip a beat.

Bill, standing nearby, looked at the photos on the ground, his face turning extremely dark. He knew that after today, both his and Isabella's reputations would be ruined.

And all of this was because of him!

Jack!

He caused all this trouble!

"You damn bastard, how dare you ruin my wedding! Go to hell!"

Bill reached into his suit, pulled out a gun, and looked at Jack with a twisted expression.

Then without hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

"Bill! Don't!" Isabella screamed in terror.

But it was too late to stop him.

The gunshot rang out.

But Jack didn't fall.

The moment Bill pulled out the gun, Jack had already moved. Almost at the same time Bill pulled the trigger, Jack's foot had already kicked his chest.

This caused the trajectory to deviate, missing Jack.

Bill fell to the ground, feeling a dull pain in his chest, as if he'd been hit by a car. Before he could react.

Jack's foot was already on his chest, pinning him down firmly.

At the same time, the gun flew out of Bill's hand.

"You..." Bill kicked his legs wildly, his face turning red, but no matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free from Jack's hold.

Jack's foot was like a mountain pressing down on him, making him unable to move.

Bill's gun flipped once in the air, then was caught steadily by Jack.

Jack held the gun, pointing it at Bill.

"You want to kill me?"

Jack's voice was cold, like death whispering in your ear.

"Nice try."

"But you're too slow."

As he spoke, Jack lifted his foot and stomped hard on Bill's chest.

"Ah!"

The next moment, a piercing scream rang out as Bill coughed up blood. He felt like all his ribs had been crushed by Jack's stomp.

Seeing Bill's miserable state, Jack withdrew his foot and casually threw the gun to the ground.

Bill struggled to get up from the floor.

Seeing the strange looks around him, his dignity completely lost, he crawled and scrambled to pick up the gun from the ground.

Then he aimed straight at the back of Jack's head and pulled the trigger.

Bill rapidly pulled the trigger, producing several crisp sounds, but not a single bullet came out.

Just then.

Jack, who was walking ahead, stopped.

He turned to look at Bill, his face wearing a cold smile.

Jack extended his right hand and, in front of Bill, opened his palm.

The next moment.

Bill's eyes widened in shock. There, in Jack's clean palm, lay several shining bullets.

"You!"

Bill looked at Jack in horror. He had been standing so close to Jack just moments ago, yet he hadn't noticed how Jack had removed the bullets.

"I gave you a chance."

Jack said coldly to Bill. The next moment, he threw all the bullets.

The bullets pierced through Bill's chest.

Bill looked down at his punctured chest, blood gushing out like a fountain, staining his white shirt red.

He opened his mouth wide, as if wanting to say something, but couldn't say anything.

Bill fell heavily to the ground, stirring up a cloud of dust.

Those eyes that had been full of greed and desire were now wide open, dying with his grievances unresolved.

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

If Bill's failed shooting earlier was frightening, then now, Jack killing someone by throwing bullets with his bare hands was pure terror!

This wasn't human anymore—this was a demon crawling out of hell!