?Chapter 684:


    As Felix drove, he stole cautious nces at Wesley through the rearview mirror.


    Catching a glimpse of Wesley’s icy expression, Felix’s spine stiffened, and he quickly redirected his gaze to the road, wary of provoking him further.


    Felixmented inwardly. Oh God—Wesley looked even more terrifying than usual.


    The mood in the car plummeted to icy depths.


    Felix couldn’t afford a single mistake—he drove with precision, not letting his gaze drift for a second.


    Soon enough, they arrived at a basement.


    Wesley sat rigidly in his chair, his silhouette imposing against the dimly lit room, while Cecily sprawled on the floor, battered and bruised nearly beyond recognition. Tremors racked Cecil’s body at the mere sight of Wesley.


    “Please!” Cecil’s voice was a hoarse whisper, quivering with palpable fear. “Let me go. I promise it won’t happen again. Spare me, please. I swear I won’t dare do it again.”


    Wesley’s expression remained unreadable, his eyes cold and detached as one of his men yanked Cecil up by the hair.


    Flicking his cigarette, Wesley’s nostrils red slightly as the pungent smell of blood mingled with sweat assaulted his senses, his face twisting in a brief expression of disgust. “Who asked you to drug Elena?”


    Frantically, Cecil shook his head, the terror in his eyes escting. “I acted alone… I didn’t know she was yours, Mr. Spencer. I beg you—please, have mercy.”


    Despite his fear of Wesley, Cecil knew mentioning Keith was off the table. With Keith’s father being none other than Graham, the deputy mayor, betraying Keith was akin to sealing his own fate.


    Cecil’s pleas continued, desperate and pitiful, hoping Wesley would choose to spare his life.


    Wesley took a slow, deliberate drag from his cigarette, his voice dripping with disdain. “Since his mouth is going to stay shut, tear out every tooth he’s got.”


    At that, a subordinate stepped forward, pliers in hand, ready to carry out the grim task.


    The mere sight of the pliers sent a stabbing pain through Cecil’s teeth, and he writhed in futile resistance. “No, please… don’t do this—Ah!”


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    With ruthless force, the pliers were jammed into Cecil’s mouth,tching onto a tooth before mercilessly ripping it out. The bloodstained tooth ttered to the floor.


    Beads of sweat covered Cecil’s face as he grimaced in excruciating pain, his eyes wide with horror.


    One after another, his teeth were brutally extracted, each apanied by agonized screams that reverberated off the cold basement walls. Finally, toothless, Cecil copsed on the floor, his mouth a gruesome spectacle of gore.


    “Ahem… Mr. Spencer, I beg you, spare me. I won’t make the mistake again…” His voice was faint, barely a whisper, yet the ordeal was far from over.


    Once a hardened street thug, Cecil was no stranger to the dark side of crime, but today was a brutal lesson in the many methods of torment—one where survival seemed a fate crueler than death.


    Felix looked down at Cecil’s battered form, questioning whether he had sumbed to his injuries, and passed his phone to Wesley.


    “Mr. Spencer, we’ve got a problem.”


    The media buzzed with shing headlines, echoing everywhere: “Scandal in High Society—Harper Family Heiress’ Wild Private Life, Caught in Hotel with Blond Man!”


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