Chapter 1831:


    Deep down, she already knew the truth — her poor boy was likely dead, and they were only dangling his fate to twist her into begging the Jones family to spare their lives.


    Christina abruptly drew her hand from behind her back.


    Resting in her palm was a stiff, hard-soled shoe. She passed it straight to Etta.


    “Etta, take this and keep pping them with it until they finally cave,” she said coolly.


    Everyone in the room froze, blindsided by the audacity of it. The father and son were struck even harder by the shock when they heard her urging Etta to thrash them with the bottom of a shoe.


    “Go on, Etta. If they don’t taste a little pain, why would they evere clean?” Christina added, blinking at her with a look that seemed almost sweet and harmless.


    Had they not just witnessed the ruthless streak she had shown moments ago, that innocent act might have fooled the entire room.


    Etta jolted back to herself and epted the rigid-soled shoe. “Miss Jones, you’ve got a point,” she said.


    The instant the shoended in her grasp, the father and son lost their nerve entirely.


    “You’ve lost your mind! You really swallow whatever she feeds you? If you so much asy a hand on me, don’t think your boy will walk away untouched!” Etta’s husband yelled.


    “Mom, I’m your son. Even if I’m not your flesh and blood, you were the one who raised me. To me, you’ve always been my real mother — better than one. Please, don’t hit me.”


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    While the father and son struggled to push themselves up, Christina spoke with calm authority. “Pin them down. Don’t let them budge.”


    “Got it.”


    The security guards hurried over at once and forced the two men back into ce.


    “Let us go! Let us go!” They fought wildly, yet couldn’t break free. Even now, stubborn defiance still clung to their faces.


    “Mom—”


    Before the young man could finish his plea, Etta cut him short. She lifted her arm and struck him again and again from both sides. The rigid sole made each blow sting fiercely without her needing much strength, and after only a handful of hits, his cheeks had already puffed up badly. The crisp smack of shoe against skin rang through the room. Before long, the beating left him woozy, his features swollen past recognition.


    Atst, Etta managed to release a portion of the fury she had been bottling up.


    She stepped toward her husband, who tried to hold a steady face as he muttered a threat. “If you dare—”


    Etta didn’t let him get another word out. She brought the shoe down on him without the slightest pause. It was almost absurd that he still believed he could intimidate her in a moment like this. Soon enough, his face ballooned just like his son’s, a fiery ache spreading across his mouth.


    “Talk. Where is my child? If you stay quiet, I’ll keep swinging until you answer,” Etta demanded, raising her arm to strike him again.


    Even after several blows in a row, her husband kept his lips sealed. She shifted her gaze back to the younger man.


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