CHAPTER 42: CHAPTER 42: TRY TO STEAL MY HUSBAND, AND YOU’LL LOSE YOUR LIFE!

"No." Martin Hawthorne casually slipped a USB drive into Lachlan Wyatt’s hand and said, "Following the trail, we discovered dealings with the Jacobs Family."

"The backing is the Jacobs Family?" Lachlan Wyatt weighed the USB in his hand. "I didn’t expect this mess to be connected to the Jacobs Family; it’s practically handing us a victory."

Last month, we received a secret mission. The client demanded evidence of tax evasion by a major corporation. Their foundation was too strong, so our base had someone undercover for a long time before finding the evidence. Unexpectedly, it was related to the Jacobs Family.

Lachlan and his team were affiliated with a mysterious agency where they each had their roles. They were the best in their fields, and just mentioning their names commanded respect.

It seemed they were just nominally affiliated, but they took on all kinds of jobs as long as the money was right.

From helping housewives unclog drains, helping old ladies cross the street, finding cats for grandpas, to helping elementary students with their summer homework.

They even helped several wealthy people’s spouses drive away mistresses, known as "professional mistress deterrent" — all these jobs were handled by Iris Crawford.

As for big tasks... those naturally couldn’t be disclosed.

Therefore, in this agency, they held too many secrets unknown to most people, with an information network sprawling underground, almost nothing could be hidden from them.

Thinking back to how it all started... Martin glanced at Lachlan’s face. When they met, Martin was the silent and quiet Martin, and Lachlan wasn’t as flamboyant as now. He was silently following others like a silent shadow.

Because of family ties, Martin was taken by adults to greet Lachlan. He briefly said two words, "Hello."

That was the first meeting between Martin and Lachlan, never expecting one day they’d fight side by side.

When seeing Lachlan again, they were both abroad. Martin was in a bad mood and rescued a girl being harassed in a deserted alley. Just when the girl, realizing he was handsome, blushed and thanked him, Martin said nothing and turned to leave.

Turning his head, he saw Lachlan at the other end of the alley.

He said, "Long time no see, world champion Muay Thai fighter."

Martin squinted, searching his mind for a long time, but couldn’t recall Lachlan.

Instead, Lachlan introduced himself, patting Martin lightly on the shoulder, even through clothes you could feel Martin’s muscles, extremely strong, subtly tense, as if restraining his wild killing intent.

Lachlan smiled and said, "In a bad mood?"

Martin knew he acted just now purely out of a desire to hit someone, not to actually help the harassed girl.

He couldn’t control his impulses. It seemed he was born violent.

His usual cold face wasn’t for show or to look cool, it was because he was constantly suppressing his urge to hit someone.

Then he heard Lachlan say, "How about this, fight me, I’ll pick the place, and after the fight, you have to agree to one of my requests."

Martin swore, his fight with Lachlan was the most satisfying of his life. In the end, both leaned against the wall, gasping, and Martin actually laughed, forcefully throwing a towel at Lachlan’s face.

He said, "Why didn’t you join the Muay Thai championship match then?"

Lachlan pulled the towel off his face, hung it around his neck, and smiled, "Didn’t care for the prize money, it was too low, not interested."

"..."

No fight, no friendship. After this fight, Martin and Lachlan became good brothers. Their families knew each other too, so no one questioned their sudden closeness.

But only Martin knew how much darkness Lachlan hid inside. Beneath his carefree façade was an unfeeling malice that society could never accept.

Just like now, Martin noticed Lachlan constantly watching Iris, and instinctively reminded him, "You seem to care a lot about Birdie."

Lachlan didn’t deny, "Is she pretty?"

Martin praised her with a straight face, "Pretty."

The kind that stands out in a crowd, beauty that can’t be hidden.

Lachlan grumbled displeasedly, "Then it’s settled, she’s pretty, I’m just looking a few more times, so what?"

Martin sneered, "You’ve got ideas, don’t you?"

"Oh, very much so." When Lachlan said this, Iris felt a creepy gaze from behind her. When she turned around to look, she couldn’t figure out whose gaze was so terrifying.

The owner of that gaze was whispering to Martin at the moment, "You have no idea how I think every day about how to play with her legs."

"..." Martin stared at Lachlan’s face. Knowing each other for so long, he spoke bold words, "Sick pervert."

Just then, Patrick Pierce withdrew his phone from Iris’s hand and said coolly, "I care so much about your news, but you don’t care at all."

This woman didn’t care about her reputation, making him the one acting superfluously.

A little annoyed, Patrick Pierce snorted, took back his phone, glanced at his Twitter, which was flooded with fans’ private messages, crazily expressing their fanatic love for him.

"Brain-dead."

Patrick Pierce clicked open a fan’s message, the lengthy expression of love made him frown before closing his phone.

"They’re your fans," Sarah Shaw commented on the side, "Is it really okay to speak about fans like that?"

"I’m begging them to like me?" Patrick Pierce spread his hands, "It’s self-indulgent and self-moved."

He’s been in the entertainment industry too long and is already tired of it all. He feels like a machine, with no way out once on stage.

Exposed under the spotlight, he can’t show other emotions, every smile and tear must satisfy everyone.

So to the public, Patrick Pierce seems like a doting, gentle superstar, but behind the scenes, his expression turns fierce as he despises this phony spotlight.

Iris Crawford clicked her tongue in contemplation, "Sigh, being loved is so good, not realizing your blessings."

Patrick Pierce retorted, "They like the star version of me, not the real me."

Iris uttered an ’oh’, not arguing further. Since everyone was rarely at the base today, why not have a nice meal tonight.

Iris rolled up her sleeves and said, "To welcome you all back from undercover, I’ll prepare a grand feast tonight."

"M’lady, please stop."

James Chesterton reached out with a serious face, "Spare the kitchen, it can’t take your torment."

Iris raised her brows in challenge, "Don’t believe me?"

"Who dares to." Lachlan Wyatt stood up, "I’ll do it, your skills are mediocre. In a few days when Jordan’s fifty million comes through, we can have a banquet in the square opposite Jacobs Corporation, blasting loud thanks to Young Master Jacobs over the PA."

Ruthless to the point of brutality!

That night, Yvonne Jennings returned home filled with hatred, tossing a document to Jordan Jacobs, "Jacobs, I’ve contacted the culprit of the old kidnapping case!"

Jordan Jacobs’s expression lit up with joy, "How did you contact them?" Despite pulling many strings, he hadn’t found out.

Yvonne’s eyes showed avoidance, seemingly not wanting to answer that question, instead saying something else, "I... just spent some money, look, here’s the prison they’re in now. Iris Crawford is likely seeking testimonies from them to prove you chose me back then; we need to act before her!"

Given the gravity of the matter, Jordan Jacobs and Yvonne Jennings were naturally in lockstep, nodding after exchanging glances. Jordan said, "I know, Iris keeps pushing, don’t blame me for being ruthless! She’s come again, now demanding you move out!"

Yvonne, who spent the entire day outside running connections for Howard Jennings, flared up on hearing this, "What right does she have to kick me out?!"

"She said the house is under hers and my name, so she has the right to evict, and she’ll come in three days..."

"That bitch!" Yvonne was so infuriated she slammed a pillow on the sofa, "Does she think she’s untouchable?! If that’s the case, I won’t let her off! Trying to take my husband... she won’t get the chance!"