Seeing that the danger had passed, Milton shoved Honora aside. "Theon? Are you okay?"
Honora stumbled, nearly falling over the overturned table. She steadied herself, keeping her head down to hide her expression. She had hoped Larissa would at least be roughed up tonight, but it turned out this whole room of men was completely useless. Even Lucius, in whom she’d placed her hopes, was nothing special. His own territory, and he’d let Larissa walk all over him.
Theon groaned in pain. "...Get… get someone to stop the bleeding…"
Milton frantically pressed the service button, but with the entire club in chaos, no one answered the intercom.
Honora composed herself and stepped forward, offering a concerned smile. "Milton, we should just call an ambulance. If we wait any longer, something bad could happen to Theon."
Livia merely shot a cold glance at the barely conscious Theon, said nothing, grabbed her bag from the sofa, and left, leaving the others to scramble and deal with the mess.
...
Not far from the entrance of Neverending Night, a black sedan was parked discreetly by the side of the road.
Crispin, in the driver's seat, had his eyes fixed on the club’s entrance. Suddenly, his expression brightened, and he turned to Haskell in the back. "Sir, Ms. Judson is out."
Haskell, who had been leaning back, sat up straight and looked through the window. Sure enough, Larissa’s figure appeared.

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