Walter narrowed his eyes and hissed in that sharp, nasal vole of his, “Whinever it was… they’re dead.”
Suddenly, Andrew’s image popped into his mind. However, he gave a dismissive shake of his head and scoffed.
“That little bastard? Nah. No way he could’ve taken out Goldfangs. If someone really did it, then it had to be someone else. Maybe someone from the Keller family, or one of Derek’s elite guards.”
Nonetheless, guessing did not matter anymore.
Walter ordered his men to bury the body right there on the pot. Then, without saying another word, he climbed back into the SUV and returned to the Driscoll residence with his crew.
After a moment of hesitation, he gritted his teeth and decided to face the music. He was going to see Maurice, even this late at night.
“Sir,” Walter reported, head bowed, “the two assassins I sent after that brat are dead.”
Maurice sat under the harsh overhead lights, the black mark covering half his face exposed in full view, making him look even more terrifying
“Two failures in a row? Walter, you’ve gotten sloppy.”
Walter trembled and immediately bowed deeply. “I’m sorry, sir. It was my negligence entirely!”
While he was a terrifying figure to his own subordinates, in front of Maurice, head of the Driscoll family, Walter was as humble as a dog with its tall between its legs.
The reason was simple.
Maurice was not just the family head, but he was also a formidable powerhouse on the Titan List.
On the Titan List, where everyone was at least martial king level, Maurice ranked 35th, proving just how strong he
was.
But more importantly, Maurice was an extremely ruthless and merciless man.
Walter’s physical disability came from a grave mistake he had made in his youth, when Maurice had personally castrated him.
Even now, despite holding a high rank and commanding the Driscoll family’s Shadow Division, Walter still had nightmares about that traumatic loss.
“Forget it. Just don’t let it happen again,” Maurice muttered, waving a hand dismissively, “I don’t have time to dig into the details. Tomorrow, Joe will face that punk in the ring.”
He did not press further, nor did he need to.
Walter slowly raised his head, eyes gleaming with icy resolve. “Sir, we still have time before tomorrow comes. Would you permit me to deal with him myself–end it personally?”
Maurice shot him a glare. “Don’t be stupid. If you make a move, Joe will notice instantly. And if that happens, he’ll accuse us of sabotaging him. Knowing Joe, he’ll throw a tantrum, maybe even turn on you.”
Walter let out an awkward laugh. “Well… that does sound like something he would do.”
Maurice did not smile. He spoke with finality. “Since we failed, let it be. Joe will take care of Andrew himself tomorrow. Our job is to keep the match quiet. We don’t need this getting out and dragging down the Driscoll
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family’s name.”
He paused for a beat. “Still, with all the talent in your division, how did both men fail?”
Walter’s face darkened. “I’m not sure yet, sir. Truthfully, even Goldfangs is gone.”
Maurice’s brows twitched in visible surprise. “Even Goldfangs? Is Andrew playing dumb while hiding his strength?”
Walter shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it. My guess is he has someone powerful backing him. Or… maybe it’s one of our old enemies, secretly meddling again.”
Maurice let out a chilling snort. “Then investigate. A couple of dead men mean nothing to the Driscoll family. But tit for tat… blood for blood… we won’t let this slide.” 5-
Walter lowered his head in reverence. “Understood, sir!”
