Frank Mitchell’s relaxed nerves imdiately tensed up.
Just as the bodyguard was preparing to escape with him, they were quickly surrounded.
Expressionless n in black encircled them.
Just as the bodyguard was about to draw his pistol, the n in black all pulled out their guns and shouted, "Don’t move!"
Outnumbered, they had no choice but to reluctantly put down their pistols.
Steady, rhythmic footsteps approached.
The n in black automatically stepped aside, making way.
A handso man, who looked strikingly like Thomas Shannon, stepped forward, his cold eyes full of sharpness.
The cold breath he exuded was no less intimidating than Thomas.
In a mont, the air pressure in the vicinity dropped to its lowest point.
His cold eyes landed on Frank Mitchell’s face. "Are you Frank Mitchell?"
Frank Mitchell stood in place, his back straight as an arrow, his hands by his sides clenched into fists.
He clenched his teeth, glaring with resentnt at the man in front of him. It was this man; it was him!
Feeling the hatred coming from him, Jas Shannon’s eyebrow tips raised slightly. "You hate ?"
Frank Mitchell’s fists creaked as he clenched them tighter. He suddenly swung a punch and charged forward.
"Mister, watch out!"
As soon as the man in black’s voice sounded, Jas Shannon kicked him away.
THUD!
With a heavy thud, Frank Mitchell fell flat on the ground.
He raised his head, staring at him furiously. "I will kill you!"
"If you want to kill , you need to have the ability." Jas Shannon approached him, looking down from above. "Tell , why do you hate ?"
"You know exactly why!" He had the nerve to ask?
Feeling the humiliation, Frank Mitchell fiercely slamd his fist into the ground. His body suddenly leaped up, ready to fight him to the death.
Jas Shannon moved quickly, snatching a pistol from a man in black’s hand and pressing it to Frank’s head. "Young man, speak clearly."
"Ha, Jas Shannon, spare ! You know what you’ve done; you know it in your heart!"
Frank Mitchell’s eyes were bloodshot, filled with red veins. "Do I need to remind you of the shaful things you’ve done?"
Jas Shannon found it utterly ridiculous. "What have you misunderstood?"
"What happened to my mother that year is just a misunderstanding?!" Frank Mitchell grabbed the pistol pressed against his forehead and forcibly moved it to his chest. He stared fiercely at Jas Shannon. "Shoot here, shoot!"
"How dare you!"
A man in black kicked him behind the knees, and Frank Mitchell’s legs buckled, causing him to kneel before Jas Shannon.
Jas Shannon pulled the pistol from Frank’s hand and tossed it to a man in black nearby.
"Frank Mitchell, do you think I’m your father?"
Jas Shannon was an intelligent man. He indeed recognized Frank Mitchell and knew who his mother was.
So, the last ti he heard Thomas Shannon was dealing with Frank, he had proactively called Thomas Shannon to inquire.
"Isn’t it?!" Frank Mitchell gritted his teeth.
Jas Shannon coldly hooked the corner of his mouth. "In my life, I’ve only had my wife. My only son is Thomas Shannon."
Hearing these words, Frank Mitchell grew even angrier, like a volcano about to erupt, burning with scorching lava.
Such a good one about having only his wife. What about his mother? What was his mother to him, then? This shaless man dared to act but not own up!
"Rest assured, my father’s surna is Mitchell. You, this bastard, don’t deserve to be my father!"
Jas Shannon hadn’t co to him to hear his crazy words and insults. Even with his excellent composure, he grew angry with each curse Frank directed at him.
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