?Chapter 1627:


    Brendan, however, remained unfazed. He merely shoved the woman off hisp, took a leisurely sip of his wine, and sauntered toward Ashlyn.


    She tensed. The closer he got, the harder she fought against the hands restraining her. Every fiber of her being screamed to get away. Brendan stopped just inches from her. Slowly, he reached out and tilted her chin upward with a single finger. His smirk deepened. Lust clouded his eyes.


    “If you serve me well, I might just be in a good enough mood to let you go,” he murmured. His words feigned kindness, but his grip told the truth.


    Ashlyn knew there was no way out, so she did the only thing she could. She spat.


    The glob of spit hit Brendan’s cheek with precision. His expression darkened instantly. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, his hand snapped up—Smack! The p rang through the room like a gunshot.


    Ashlyn’s head whipped to the side. A sharp, stinging pain bloomed across her cheek, red fingerprints forming almost immediately. Brendan had put real force behind it.


    The woman beside Brendan flinched. Panicked, she scrambled to pull out a wet wipe, offering it with a forced, coquettish smile. “Mr. Adams, here you go.”


    Brendan took it, wiped the saliva off his face, then flung it at the woman without warning. “Get lost!” he snapped.


    The woman shrank back in terror. She didn’t dare to make a sound as she scurried away. She knew better. One wrong word, one wrong move could mean death. Everyone in this room had seen firsthand how ruthless Brendan could be.


    Now, his fury was squarely aimed at Ashlyn. “You wretched bitch. You dare spit at me? Looks like you’ve got a death wish.” His hand shot up again.


    The echoes of repeated ps ricocheted harshly off the living room walls. Aside from that cruel rhythm, silence hung heavily in the air.


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    Blood trickled from Ashlyn’s split lip. Her thoughts were jumbled, swirling chaotically in her pounding head. She felt the room spin as dizziness swept over her. Despite being restrained, she couldn’t prevent her body from tilting sideways.


    As Katelyn walked past the vi’s French windows, she witnessed Brendan assaulting Ashlyn. She tightened her grip on the garbage bin handle. A violent rage began to build inside her, urging her to shatter everything around her.


    That despicable Brendan! How dare he harm Ashlyn like that! At that moment, one of Brendan’s men hurriedly informed him, “Mr. Adams, Vincent just arrived.”


    Brendan ceased his assault and sneered at Ashlyn. “Well, 100k at that, you little bitch. I didn’t realize you meant this much to Vincent.” Barely an hour had passed since the news got out. Yet Vincent had already stormed in with backup. Clearly, Ashlyn meant something to him.


    Ashlyn, struggling to stay conscious, felt disbelief stir within her. Vincenting here was beyond anything she’d imagined. She had believed Katelyn was gone for good and that Vincent wouldn’t care about her.


    Their rtionship was nothing more than a brief, casual acquaintance. At most, they were merely casual friends who had shared a few days ofpany.


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