A Heart Given Wrong

---- Chapter 4 Francis was completely stunned. His phone slipped from his hand and hit the ground, the screen shattering instantly. "Guzman Group? That Guzman Group?" His voice trembled as he looked at me, his eyes full of terror. Zoey collapsed to the ground, her face drained of all color. Her family was considered wealthy, but compared to the Guzman Group magnates, they were nothing. Guzman Group was a monster capable of shaking the global economy with a single move. Zoey dared not imagine the consequences of offending the successor of such a powerful corporation.

Asecurity guard immediately took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. Steve personally supported me, nodding repeatedly, his face filled with shaken relief. Mr. Guzman, I'm so sorry. This was our failure in management. You must've been so frightened. Rest assured, we will take this matter very seriously." Ignoring him, I fixed my cold gaze on Yvonne. At that moment, there was no trace left of her earlier arrogance or smugness. ---- She staggered toward me, forcing a submissive smile. " Honey, this is all just a misunderstanding.

I was just joking with them..." She reached out to grab my hand, but I pulled away in disgust. "A joke?" I sneered. "Yvonne, I hope you still think this is funny in a few minutes." Yvonne's face turned as pale as a sheet. She stammered, trying to explain. "I-I didn't mean it... It was Francis! It was his idea! And Zoey, too! They forced me!" She didn't hesitate at all to throw them under the bus. "Yvonne, you bitch!" Francis screamed. "You were the one trying to suck up to Ms. Malcom!" Zoey pointed at Yvonne and shouted, "Bullshit!

You're the one who said your husband was just a toy we could do whatever we wanted with!" Watching them turn on each other, I felt disgusted. I didn't bother wasting my breath. I turned and walked away. Outside the amusement park, a line of black Rolls-Royces was already waiting. A middle-aged man, dressed in a sharp suit with meticulously combed hair, hurried toward ---- me. It was Oswald, my father's most trusted aide and the COO of Guzman Group. "Mr. Guzman, I'm sorry." Oswald's eyes were red, his voice heavy with guilt and concern.

"I'm late." Behind him, dozens of men in black suits respectfully greeted in unison, "Mr. Guzman!" The display of respect emanated a magnificent, commanding presence. The air at the park entrance seemed to freeze. I shook my head, my voice hoarse. "Mr. Chance, it's not your fault." I got into the car and accepted a warm towel from Oswald, wiping my face. "Those people inside... Don't let a single one of them go." Oswald immediately understood. He took out his phone and made a call. "Seal off the area. Detain everyone inside.

After a brief pause, he added, "Especially Yvonne Singer, Francis Yorke, and Zoey Malcom. Take special care of them." The convoy slowly rolled out. In the rearview mirror, I watched as Yvonne and the others were dragged out like ---- bags of trash by men in black and thrown into the cars behind us. Yvonne struggled desperately, screaming my name over and over. Unfortunately, it was too late.