Chapter 1833:


    Both of them shook like leaves, their legs quivering without restraint. Had the guards not been propping them up, they would have crumpled straight to their knees. Their arms were wrenched out of ce, leaving them helpless to slip free of the guards’ hold.


    “I don’t believe a word you’re saying! You’re hiding the truth from me on purpose!”


    Swayed by Christina’s insistence, Etta was convinced they were lying through their teeth. She clenched the shoe tighter and brought it down with greater force. Crisp smacks cracked through the air one after another.


    Their lips and cheeks ballooned grotesquely, blood seeping from the corners of their mouths until they were barely recognizable. The servants and security staff watching shrank back, rigid with dread — it was agony just to witness. The onlookers sucked in sharp breaths, flinching as though each blow hadnded on their own faces. Not a soul pitied the two men. Only a quiet relief lingered that none of them had ever crossed the Jones family.


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    No matter how relentlessly she pressed them, Etta still couldn’t pry out a single clue about her child’s whereabouts. Her rising fury only drove her to strike with greater force.


    By the end, each man had lost two teeth, their faces swollen past recognition.


    “My teeth… my teeth…” Etta’s husband sobbed, his speech thick and garbled.


    “Mom, stop hitting me! I was wrong — please, forgive me! It was all my father’s doing. He killed your child. I had nothing to do with it!” the young man cried, dumping every ounce of me onto his father.


    In that desperate moment, he knew that if he didn’t turn on the old man, he would be beaten to death. It was the only chance he had left to make it out alive.


    Hearing his own son betray him, Etta’s husband spat, “You thankless wretch! Aren’t you afraid of what karma will bring for stabbing your own father in the back?”


    “I’m your only son, Dad! If I die here, our family line is finished,” he snapped. “You’re old anyway. If you go, so be it. I’m young — I’m not throwing my life away for yours.”


    “How dare you say that!” Etta’s husband bellowed. “At your age, you can’t even keep a wife or have a child. With useless trash like you, our family is doomed regardless!”


    “At least I’m still better than you, you rotten old bastard!” the young man fired back with contempt.


    Their words came out thick and slurred, and as the argument red, every twitch tugged at their battered faces, making each movement a fresh source of pain.


    Etta’s husband had been pushed to his absolute limit by his own son’s behavior. Even in the most dangerous moment of his life, his son had turned on him without a shred of pity and hurled insults at him without restraint.


    “You ungrateful brat! How could you turn against me like this!” the father roared.


    His son ignored the outburst entirely and fixed Etta with pleading eyes. “Mom, go ahead and hit Dad — but please, don’t hit me,” he said.


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