Maimed Me for a Fake Heir, Now They Beg

I wasn't able to leave with Winona, Heather, and Terry immediately because the furious netizens tracked me down sooner than expected.

I had just agreed to leave with them when a group of young men burst into the auto repair shop.

"Murderer! Leave this place!"

"You sick bastard! How dare you stand on the sidelines and do nothing when you can save a life? You should just die!"

The young men hurled rotten tomatoes and eggs at my signboard. One of them rushed into the shop and kicked over a mountain bike that I had painstakingly assembled, sending parts scattering across the floor.

Terry and Heather did nothing as the young men vandalized my shop, watching the chaos unfold with icy gazes. In fact, I could pick out a hint of glee flickering in their eyes.

From their perspective, I would only obediently listen to their orders after I was forced into a corner.

Terry glanced at the bodyguards behind him. His tone was glacial as he barked out his orders, giving off the impression that he was dealing with trash.

"Jamie has already agreed to help us. We can't let him delay any more of our time. Tidy up his place for him."

The bodyguards leaped into action. Instead of "tidying up", they began wrecking my shop. They destroyed my toolbox and stomped on my old radio until it was nothing but broken pieces.

The radio had been my only connection to the outside world during my time in prison.

Quinn Forester had given it to me. She was also the sister of the victim of the medical malpractice case.

When everyone turned their back on me, she was the only one who kept investigating the case to find out the truth. She had also been helping me rehabilitate my ruined hand in the past three months.

I held the broken remains of the radio close to my chest and hissed in a low voice, "You're going to regret this, Terry."

"Regret?" Terry scoffed. "The only thing I regret in my life is bringing you back from the slums. Just look at the state that you're in. You look nothing like a Lachman!"

Winona approached me brandishing a high-voltage stun baton. There was a manic glint in her eyes when she said, "Stop wasting time, Jamie. Matthew can't wait anymore. I won't mind ruining your other hand if you try to escape while we're on the way to the hospital."

Blue electricity pulsed through the air, letting out a buzzing noise that sent a chill down my spine.

Winona didn't hesitate for even a second before she drove the baton into my back.

Excruciating pain coursed through my entire body. The air was punched out of my lungs, and black spots exploded in my vision. I crashed to the floor that was covered with oil stains and metal shavings.

Right before I lost consciousness, I heard Heather hiss in an irritated voice, "Hurry up. Don't dirty the ambulance. He's so troublesome. Giving birth to a piece of trash like him is truly the humiliation of the Lachman family."

They dragged me out of the auto repair shop as if I were a rag doll.

The livestream was still recording everything that was going on.

The viewers cheered, feeling ecstatic that justice was being served. They had no idea that the filthy auto repair shop harbored a secret that Matthew would never find out in his lifetime.