Chapter 127 

When Remington got Lizetta’s message, he was already back at Oakridge Heights. 

On his desk was a more detailed file about Daniel, listing all the girls he had screwed over the years. 

Voluntarily or coerced, it was as thick as a book. And it even led to a loss of life two years ago. 

Remington’s eyes darkened, struggling to imagine what might have happened that night if Lizetta hadn’t thought on her feet. 

A silent killing intent spread until his phone pinged with another notification. He glanced at the screen, the murderous vibe slowly melting away. He tossed the file into the trash and commanded in a deep voice, “Go, but leave him breathing.” 

That was what one called a fate worse than death. 

“Got it,” standing in front of the desk, a solemn figure, Ray, understood and left to carry out the order. 

It was then that Remington picked up his phone and read the message. The woman not only had taken him 

off the blocklist but also asked to meet at a café the next day; the chill in Remington’s eyes completel 

thawed, leaving him pensive. 

At that moment, Edith knocked on the door, “Sir, Mr. Lucian Dashiell is here.” 

Remington flipped his phone face down on the desk, ‘Take him to the recreation room.” 

When Remington arrived, Lucian was already waiting. 

“Remi, calling me over this late, you’re not asking me to sweat it out with you, are you?” 

He gestured at the workout equipment, slightly puzzled. 

Remington didn’t respond but walked over, picked up a pair of boxing gloves from the rack, and tossed them to Lucian. He grabbed a pair for himself and slowly put them on. 

Lucian was momentarily taken aback, then cracked a smile, shed his coat, slipped on the gloves, and squared up, tilting his chin, “Remi, you sit in the office all day, and I’m a pro athlete. You’re no match for me 

now.” 

Before he could finish his sentence, Remington moved like lightning. 

A kick to the chest sent Lucian stumbling back a few steps, a dull pain in his chest. Before he could catch his breath, another kick was flying his way, and Lucian’s towering figure twisted and fell, sliding two meters and crashing into a corner. 

“You talk too much,” Remington said coldly, eyeing Lucian and motioning with his fists. 

With a sharp look, Lucian sprang to his feet, clenched his fists, and charged forward. But as it turned out, even with daily professional training, he was no match for Remington in the boxing ring. 

After being knocked down for the eighteenth time, Lucian lay there gasping for air, not getting up to fight back. Instead, he ripped off his gloves and asked, “You know about that thing, right?” His tone was questioning, but it sounded like a confirmation. 

Being called in just to get beat up had to mean Remington knew about the thing he and Lizetta had kept from him. 

Still standing, Remington Jooked down at Lucian and said coolly, “Not too stupid.” 

Lucian sat up, wincing from his injuries, “Ouch, Remi, you don’t hold back, do you? It was Litchi who told me not to tell you,” 

“And you just went along with it because she said so? What is she, your boss? Remington scoffed. 

Lucian felt he was being wronged, “Isn’t she just like the little boss?” 

As kids, when he and Lizetta fought, no matter who was at fault, Remi always gave him a good thrashing. And years later, nothing had changed. No, it had changed; because of Lizetta marrying Remington, his fists just now were ever relentless; he was in severe pain… 

Somehow his words seemed to have struck a nerve with Remington, whose gaze turned even more piercing. 

“Sho’s my 

wife! My wife goes through something like this and you conspire with her to hide it from me; what the hell are you playing at?” 

Lucian felt a bit guilty and scratched his nose, “Remi, don’t be mad. Lizetta was just worried that if you found out, you’d overthink it or do something rash because of what happened that year. She cares about you too much.” 

Remington sneered, “Should I be thanking you guys for being so considerate