Around 10:30 p.m., Sherri finished her dinner but, due to not fully recovering her energy, she entered sleep early. This was prompted by the abundance of food brought back by Hackett. Joy was beginning to suspect that Sherri might be pregnant. Not only could she sleep well, but she also had a good appetite.
In a pavilion within the Blackwell family's villa, three men sat. Two of them held cigarettes with glowing tips between their fingers, creating intermittent light and shadow in the night. The third man was drinking beer. The table was filled with a variety of late-night snacks, including fruits, beer, and others. Two of the men still had traces of bruises on their faces. Trevon arrived in his pajamas as he was too lazy to change in the late night. Surprisingly, he found that Frank was also in his pajamas upon his arrival, and then there was Hackett, who walked out dramatically and was similarly dressed in sleepwear. Hackett's sleepwear was a bright red set, Trevon's was black, and Frank's was gray.
Trevon, holding a beer can with his well-defined fingers, took a sip and felt the coolness of it. He commented in a cold tone to Frank, "Is it that hot? Why buy something this freezing?"
Beer and late-night snacks were bought by Frank, and Trevon was also picked up by him. Frank couldn't help but retort, "Be content. I'm here to serve you."
Hackett took a deep drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke rings intentionally toward Trevon's face. Trevon waved his hand in disdain. If it weren't for his own son, he really wanted to kick Hackett to death. Trevon deliberately placed the beer can on the table with force, causing water stains to splash. The beer inside the can was then accurately splashed onto Hackett's pajama pants. Hackett instinctively stood up, shaking the beer off, cursing, "Damn, you did that on purpose."
Trevon acted innocent and asked, "Could my hand intentionally do that?"
Frank laughed, sat back casually, and picked up some snacks to eat. The three of them hadn't sat together like this for a long time. This matter wasn't informed to Chris, but even if it were, he wouldn't come for such late-night snacks. For someone like Chris, who valued health, eating late at night would shorten his lifespan.
The three of them chatted casually for hours, drinking most of the alcohol. Hackett couldn't handle alcohol as well as the other two; he was slightly intoxicated. Bringing up an old topic, he said, "You two colluded and plotted against my baby girl, Ruby."
Seeing the state of his friend, Frank knew Hackett had had too much to drink. Trevon wasn't much into the snacks; he only drank, nodding in agreement. "Wasn't planning to hide it from you forever. Why are you still harping on it? Look at me." He pointed to his cheeks and eyes.
Frank kept smiling, lit a cigarette on the table with a snap, and held it at the corner of his lips. "I guess every time we get drunk, the matter will be brought up again. It's something we'll never forget."
Trevon speculated and said, "I guess he's about to take out his phone to settle the score soon."
Hackett had a peculiar habit. When he got drunk with men, he enjoyed settling the score and demanding compensation. He would take out his phone and continue calculating until the agreed-upon money was transferred, only then did he put down the phone for calculation.
Frank patted his pocket and chuckled. "I'm here to support the fighting, not the main character here, so I'm not paying for anything. I need to save money to prepare engagement gifts for my little girl, Nona."
Then Hackett said, "You two were probably from the Secret Service in your past lives. Why not continue keeping it a secret? Or better yet, wait until I'm in the coffin, then bring some flowers in front of my grave to inform me."
Frank smirked and looked at the tipsy Hackett, teasing, "Do you think flowers are free? Don't you know how expensive things are nowadays?"
Then Hackett took out his phone and started calculating his mental distress fee. Both Frank and Trevon watched calmly, showing no signs of intervention. They appeared as if they were waiting for the final calculation results. Three men, one eating snacks, one drinking beer, and one tapping on the calculator. After a while, Hackett stopped tapping and said, "Mental distress fee, 400 thousand dollars. You two make it 800. And there's also the fact that I held in anger for a long time, which should be another 200 thousand dollars as a friendly price for each of you. So, that's 400 thousand dollars, making it a total of 1.2 million dollars..."
Frank burst into laughter. "Your mind is not clear, but your calculation is more accurate than a calculator. You didn't include holding in anger in the mental distress fee?"
Hackett waved his hand, getting a bit confused, his tongue getting heavy, saying, "It's fair enough, mental frustration is distinct from the physical, and holding in anger can harm my body."
Trevon, sitting beside them, chuckled. "Perfect logic."
"Alright, continue counting." Frank gestured, and in the end, Hackett calculated a whopping 4 million dollars, including compensation for him being exhausted and sweating too much after the fight. Reluctantly, Trevon transferred the money, and upon receiving the notification of the money transfer, Hackett promptly fell asleep, leaving both Frank and Trevon speechless on the spot.
Considering Trevon's severe injuries, Frank and Tom first helped Hackett back to the villa. At the doorstep, they woke him up and let him enter his room on his own. Then Tom took Trevon back home before driving Frank back to the Roberts' Villa.
The next day, as Olivia rode her motorcycle home, she couldn't wait to know the specific details of Jasper and Ruby. Jasper didn't explain much last night, which made her have trouble sleeping the entire night. Her heart soared with joy, thinking, 'Sophia has been selected to participate in an important mission. Otherwise, I will call her and share this happiness.'
Olivia entered the house holding her helmet. Without changing her shoes, she began questioning, "Dad, you guys already knew that Jasper and Ruby are in a relationship?"
Sitting on the sofa, Trevon heard his daughter's question and kept on his acting. In front of his daughter, he couldn't afford to be seen as a liar. "No, we just found out. Your brother's excellent at covering things up."
The rest of the family members, not knowing how to react, remained silent throughout the conversation.
As Olivia approached, she saw her father's bruises on the face. She stood there, frowned, and knelt down to check his injuries, raising her voice. "Dad, what happened to you? Who beat you like this?" She cursed in her mind, 'Damn, I have to take care of it. If Sophia is here, we will definitely beat that guy up.'
Natalie felt awkward and cleared her throat to try to explain. Both Rachel and Caleb had no intention of explaining. After all, it was not easy for them, as elders, to clarify the situation. Natalie spoke up, "Your dad acted bravely, joined forces with Frank, and raided a bandit hideout to rescue hostages."
'Huh? With such a significant event, why wasn't it reported in the news? Could it be that Dad did good deeds without seeking recognition? However, if it was just a fight, ordinary people wouldn't be a match for Dad and Frank, not to the extent of getting beaten up like this,' with these thoughts, Olivia expressed nothing but concern for her father. She stood up, sat beside him, and tilted her head to examine Trevon's injuries. With genuine care, she inquired, "Dad, are you injured elsewhere?"
Trevon patted his daughter's head, his eyes filled with indulgence and felt warm in his heart. As a father, he was undoubtedly moved by his daughter's care. "It's okay, I'll be fine in a few days. Your mom has already checked me over. Your mom was just joking. I got injured accidentally while having a friendly spar with Frank."
Olivia felt much relieved after hearing this explanation. She trusted that her father wouldn't get into fights with others, especially considering her mother's medical expertise was way more professional than hers. Then, she looked at Jasper, about to continue questioning. The maid announced that dinner was ready.
Rachel stood up first. "Let's eat."
Olivia held back what she wanted to say, helped her grandfather stand up, and asked, "Grandpa, is your leg feeling any better?"
"Much better. You've been massaging and doing acupuncture for me every week. The pain has eased, and I haven't used any ointments recently," Caleb said, patting his granddaughter's arm.
"That's good. I'll give you another leg massage later. This method works; I specifically asked our professor, and he taught me the technique. It's reliable," Olivia assured him.
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