Mosby's second apprentice, Old Hayface, had bandages wrapped around his swollen face and a freshly splinted arm.

He screamed through gritted teeth, "Yeah, it was that little bastard! Mr. Lake, you've ruled Blumedale for years—when have we ever been humiliated like this? We've got to kill Andrew. Not just kill—wipe him off the face of the earth!"

Mosby's face was dark as thunder, his fists clenching so tight that his knuckles cracked. "Andrew, you arrogant little runt… you've gone too far. Way too far."

With rage in his eyes like flames ready to erupt, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

He called Richard, patriarch of the Golding family.

"Mr. Golding Senior, I want to increase the payment—add another 500 million!" Mosby growled. I want that punk Andrew dead by tomorrow. No—tonight. I want his body in pieces!"

His furious roar was so loud it nearly burst Richard's eardrum on the other end.

"Dr. Lake, calm down! Lower your damn voice!" Richard snapped.

"You alr