Damian Prescott's so-called "skills" were only ever enough to handle the old, weak, women, and children. Now that he was old himself, he was even more pathetic.
Justin Wyatt snatched the knife from Damian Prescott's hand, and two bodyguards subdued him in an instant.
Isla Prescott saw Damian Prescott pinned to the ground like a wild beast with a broken back, all of its fight gone. Suddenly, a series of images flashed before her eyes like a macabre slideshow: the clubs he'd grab, the bowls and plates he'd smash, the countless bruises that appeared and faded, the bloody, mangled wounds... It was all finally over!
"You set me up! You dare to set me up!" Damian Prescott glared at Isla Prescott, his eyes venomous. "I'll fucking kill you!"
