Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 216: Chapter 216

After grasping the situation, York immediately settled the bill and headed for his car.
He chose the route with the fewest traffic lights and raced back to the villa at breakneck speed, pushing the speed limit the whole way.
The car screeched to a halt in the villa's courtyard.
I flung the car door open in a hurry and had barely stepped out when I heard Benedict's sobs coming from inside the house.
A middle-aged man in a loud Hawaiian shirt, leading several thuggish bruisers, stood blocking the villa's entrance.
The nanny clutched Benedict, hiding in the living room.
All the servants were outside the house, locked in a tense standoff with the thugs.
"Mommy..." Benedict cried out in panic when he saw me.
My heart ached at the sight. Without thinking, I pushed through the crowd and swept Benedict up into my arms, holding him tight.
"Madam, you're finally back!" the nanny exclaimed in relief.
Before she could finish, a shrill female voice abruptly snapped, "Oh, so you're the lady of the house?"
I whirled around and only then noticed a petite, heavily made-up woman standing beside the man in the Hawaiian shirt.
Hands planted on her hips in a domineering stance, she hissed venomously, "Your son scratched my son's face at kindergarten!"
Benedict shook his head at those words, his fair little face streaked with tears. "Mommy, I didn't do anything bad..." he kept mumbling, "I didn't do anything bad..."
At just three years old, he couldn't express himself as coherently as an adult would.
"I believe my son would never lie," I said, running my fingers through Benedict's hair as I tried to remain polite. "There may be some misunderstanding here. Since I don't know all the details yet, could we ask the kindergarten teacher to come over and help sort this out?"
Since this happened at kindergarten, the best way to get the full story is to ask the teachers.
"So what, you're saying my whole family are liars?" the Hawaiian-shirted man suddenly bellowed.
His booming voice made Benedict tremble violently in my arms.
The woman hysterically ranted, "My son has never been hurt in his life! I don't care—either let me give your brat a scar right now, or make him get down on his knees and apologize this instant!"
Emboldened by her numbers, the woman looked at me smugly.
My brow furrowed tightly. This family didn't look like decent folk at all—more like a bunch of gangsters.
With Quinn away, most of the servants in the house were women—no match for these brutes.
Arguing with people like them is pointless.
I snapped, "If Benedict really did this, I'll take full responsibility. But you've got no business making a scene outside my house!"
I caught the nanny's eye and whispered urgently, "Get security now."
I didn't expect the guy in the loud Hawaiian shirt to catch my move. He scowled and barked, "Get the hell in there and drag them out!"
The moment the words were spoken, the thugs effortlessly knocked down several servants and came charging at Benedict and me.
My heart lurched as I instinctively pulled Benedict into my arms, holding him tightly to protect him.
Just then, the Hawaiian-shirted man suddenly let out a piercing howl of pain.
The sudden scream froze everyone in their tracks.
Before I could figure out what was happening, York's icy voice cut through: "You've got two choices—apologize and get the hell out, or lose a hand."
I snapped my head up, just in time to see York gripping the Hawaiian-shirted man's wrist with crushing force.
I had no idea how he did it.
The Hawaiian-shirted man's arm instantly contorted at a grotesque angle. His face twisted into a grotesque grimace, eyes bulging from the pain as cold sweat poured down his forehead.