My Substitute CEO Bride (Nash Calcraft)

Chapter 112

Stellar was a man who did as he said.

He took his pistol and aimed it at Howard’s head.

Howard shuddered in fear when he saw the black-colored muzzle.

No one had ever dared point a gun at him in the past seventy years he had been alive.

Yet now, he did not have the guts to lose his temper when a gun was pointed at him.

Deep within his heart, he knew without a doubt that not only did Stellar dare point a gun at him, but he was also brazen enough to pull the trigger and kill him.

“Colonel… sir… I… I…”

Howard stuttered, unable to form a complete sentence.

The poor had no power over the rich, and the rich had no power over the government.

Although he held extremely powerful positions in Jonford, they were nothing in comparison to the power the Northern Territory’s colonel had.

For the sake of his life, he had no choice but to admit defeat.

“Get the hell out!” Stellar roared.

hurriedly left the room with his family’s guards.

was going on, Nash had placed thirty-six offering bowls around

exclaimed, “These offering bowls are placed according to the 36 decan stars’ positions.

had any emotion on his face before this, gasped,

was shocked. “Decan Soul-Locking Formation?”

Getting a few years shaved off your life constitutes a light punishment, and the worst

Cillian finished his sentence, he kindly asked, “Young man, are you sure you want

Cillian and walked toward the couch, where he retrieved a brush, a bottle of red-colored ink, and a stack of parchment paper

frosty expression appeared on Skadi’s face when she noticed

Grim Reaper, Father Cillian had been the man she

ninth-division grandmaster, which made him one of the best in

gorgeous features that made him look like he had just

no doubt he would have attracted large numbers of female fans if

the secular world.

might have excellent martial arts skills, but he was nothing more than a stage three

have to ignore Father

and began complaining

a ninth- division

used his brush to sketch an outline on the parchment paper.

my f*cking god. Are you

“Can it!”

directed a blast of inner energy toward Lloyd.

as he stumbled several steps backward, blood oozing from the corners