?Chapter 985:


    Before the man could get the rest of the threat out, a heavy shoe came down hard on his hand. A howl of pain tore from his throat. “My hand! It’s going to break!”


    His head jerked upward—and froze. A cold, merciless stare met his gaze, silencing him in an instant.


    Wesley,pletelyposed, ground his heel slowly into the man’s hand, letting the pressure do the talking.


    The man’s face drained of color. Panic overtook his fury. “You’ve got the wrong idea, sir!” he stammered. “I’m Tucker’s father. He keeps stealing. I was just trying to straighten him out!”


    Only when Wesley lifted his foot did the man yank his hand back, cradling it with a wince and keeping a wary eye on the stick.


    Scrambling upright, the man forced a nervous chuckle and shed a greasy smile. “You don’t understand. My boy needs discipline. A little roughness now saves him troubleter, right?”


    Tucker stood motionless, head bowed and shoulders curled inward, unable to lift his eyes toward the man who imed to be his father.


    In the middle of a rant, the man’s hand jerked upward, clearly intending to strike Tucker, but one nce at Elena’s razor-sharp stare stopped him cold. His hand dropped awkwardly to his side.


    “I’ve fed that kid and given him a ce to sleep,” the man sneered. “Still, he steals every chance he gets. Next time someone catches him—don’t hesitate. Snap his damn hand if you have to.”


    Tucker’s entire frame began to shake harder.


    Elena let hershes fall, her expression turning to stone. Any man who casually suggested breaking his son’s hand had no business calling himself a father. Without softening, she asked, “You are really his dad?”


    A smirk crept across the man’s face, slick and insincere. “Of course I am. Who else would feed that brat? Without me, he’d have dropped dead a long time ago.”


    He turned and shouted at Tucker, “Ain’t that right, Tucker?”


    Tucker recoiled, instinctively pulling his head down like a turtle into its shell. Panic shimmered in his eyes, but still, he nodded, automatic and afraid.


    From the side, N’s voice sliced through the tension. “You heard him loud and clear, Miss Harper. That boy’s no stranger to theft and we both know it won’t stop here. I get it. You’ve got your issues with Lucinda, and I know I’m not exactly your favorite either. But don’t let a grudge cloud your thinking. Treating a thief like a victim doesn’t make you heroic—it just makes you senseless.”


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    What grated most on N’s nerves was Elena’s constant need to act like the moralpass of every room she walked into. If Elena nned to y the nice person again today, she was more than ready to rip that polished image to shreds—especially with Wesley and Kason watching.


    Lucinda, hearing N’s sharp words, grew more convinced that Elena’s only goal was to provoke her. That old irritation morphed into something colder—deep, personal dislike.


    “Elena, stop inserting yourself where you don’t belong!” Lucinda hissed. “Even his own father admits he is a thief. Since he’s already stealing now, what do you think he’ll do in ten years—knock over a bank? Set fires? I’m done. I’m calling the police.”


    A murmur rose from the crowd, like wind stirring the leaves.


    “She’s right. Better lock the kid up before he turns into something worse.”


    “A good scare’s what these kids need. That’ll set them straight.”


    From the edge of the group, the man red at Tucker with a look sharp enough to cut, his expression silently warning the boy to keep quiet. Tucker’s nervous nce swept through the group, his lips sealed tight. Elena looked between the man and Tucker. The man radiated violence, not even a sliver of concern for Tucker in his stare. Her thoughts returned to the burns, the bruises, the cuts she’d seen on Tucker’s body. Something snapped behind her calm.


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