Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1691

Chapter 1691: Another brother-in-law

Meanwhile, in one of the districts just outside the main city where a redevelopment project was currently ongoing...

The streets were desolate, with no one around. Streetlights were sparse, many of them either broken or flickering. And in this quiet area, even a phone notification could echo louder than it should.

DING!

Coming from one of the already abandoned homes was the sharp ping of a phone. The only light inside came from a flashlight placed on the floor, its beam hitting the dirty wall. Seated in the middle, on an almost-broken chair, was Hugo.

"Hmm?" Hugo’s hum echoed alongside the ping, his knuckles red with blood. That didn’t stop him from fishing his phone out of his jeans to check what Atlas wanted.

After all, Hugo had everyone else’s messages and calls on mute — except Atlas’s number.

DING!

DING!

Even before he could unlock his phone, more messages came in like a flood. Atlas was spamming him. That was rare. Atlas could go centuries without speaking to anyone, and when he did, it was usually short.

"I don’t have a good feeling for—"

His words trailed off when a loud roar echoed behind him.

"You fucker!"

Hugo paused as time seemed to stop. He slowly turned to see a man standing by the entrance, pointing a cheap gun at him.

BANG!

The gunshot echoed through the house, deafening in the silence. But Hugo, trained and used to much louder explosions, merely blinked. He stared as the man collapsed at the entrance.

Despite the dim light, blood quickly stained the dusty floor.

"Ugh..." the man groaned, his hand bleeding as the pistol flew from his grip. "Uh—ugh!"

His pain escalated by the second, and the pressure on his back didn’t help. If anything, the weight pressing down made the wound worse. _{freewёbnoνel.com}

Hugo looked up at the person walking on the man’s back as he lay sprawled on the broken entrance door.

"Mint, you’re late," Hugo remarked, unfazed by the man under her feet. "Also, you almost killed him."

Mint leaned against the doorjamb, finding comfort in standing on the man like a carpet.

"I’ve always dreamed of having a nice carpet that feels like a waterbed. This guy’s fat enough to make me think the idea’s not bad at all."

"This is why you’re always broke," Hugo commented, pulling out his phone again, which was still being bombarded with messages.

Mint just smirked and looked around the room Hugo was in. He was seated on a chair in the middle, surrounded by unconscious bodies — members of a small gang. The same gang that had been monitoring Mint and Stefan not long ago.

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