My Substitute CEO Bride (Nash Calcraft)

Chatper 370

\Chapter 370

After about a 45-minute drive, they arrived at the slum where Derek and Yasmin lived.

Outside, a woman in her 50s was busy processing newly collected waste at a scrap collection

center.

Xeno did not stop the car. In fact, when they reached the entrance of the housing complex, he even sped up.

“Mr. Hun… we’re already here,” Derek could not help but remind him.

Yasmin looked equally puzzled.

Nash, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced in the rearview mirror and calmly said, “We’re being followed.”

The siblings looked back, and their expressions immediately changed.

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Concerned, Yasmin asked, “Derek, did you offend someone again?”

Derek responded sternly, “I work in the factory every day and rarely go out. Who could I have offended?”

“Enough… Stop arguing… You two stay here… Mr. Nash and I will handle those guys!”

Xeno said with furrowed brows.

The siblings immediately fell silent.

When the car reached a deserted stretch of road, it stopped.

Three vans from behind quickly surrounded them, and a tattooed man wearing a black vest stepped out.

From the vans, over 30 men emerged.

Xeno stepped out with a cold face. “Who are you? Why are you following us?”

The tattooed man glanced at Xeno. “Mr. Hun, this has nothing to do with you. Stay out of it!”

The henchmen around appeared wary of Xeno. They were obviously a little afraid of him.

Xeno smirked. “The people in the car are my friends. None of you can touch them!”

“The people in the car?”

The tattooed man seemed puzzled and then pointed at Nash. “We’re here for him.”

Nash touched his nose, smiling. “And who sent you?”

The tattooed man, growing impatient, waved his hand, “Attack! A reward of 500,000 for each cut. If he dies, I’ll take

the blame.”

The lure of 500,000 was too tempting for the ruffians.

They drew their knives and rushed forward without another word.

In a swift move, Nash knocked down the front five attackers like an ancient beast breaking through a cage.

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Within 30 seconds, all 30 were on the ground.

The tattooed man that had a cigarette dangling from his lips was stunned.

Nash slowly approached him and asked calmly, “Tell me, who sent you?”

If they were from the bigger families or his enemies, they would have sent high-level warriors. He surmised that

whoever sent these ordinary men was not familiar with his capabilities.

“It… It was Ms. Graham,” the tattooed man stammered, still in shock from the swift defeat of

his crew.

There were over 30 of them!

Nash finished them off before he could finish a cigarette!

“Ms. Graham? I don’t know a Ms. Graham.’

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Nash frowned.