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"Looks like you've lost your nerve, old-timer."
The club manager nearly jumped out of his skin at Sean's tone that made his knees weak, "Absolutely, Mr. Sean Collins. I'll take the
bland resign, retire back to the countryside."
"Who said you could leave?"
The manager was at a loss for words.
Sean leaned in closer, a careless smirk playing on his lips, "Next tsomeone comes in uninvited, I'll throw you out the window of
this fifth floor myself."
The words were said in jest, but the manager was so terrified he felt a heart attack coming on. He hastily assured Sean it would
never happen again.
Sean knocked the gift on the table to the floor without a glance and finished off his drink in one gulp. To persuade Hans to deliver a
gift for her? His sister was proving to be quite a character.
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As he stood to leave, the manager quickly said, "Mr. Sean Collins, you've forgotten your things."
Sean glanced at the painting the manager picked up from the floor and dismissed it with a flick of his gaze, "Don’t need it."
The manager couldn't believe it. A personal gift from Mr. Hans Collins himself, rejected just like that.
Sean exited the VIP room, and a bevy of beauties eyed him, eager to chat him up but lacking the courage. They knew this man was
as unpredictable as the devil himself, and even though they harbored the thought, they dared not approach.
His assistant, Steward, saw him leave the club and promptly drove up, respectfully opening the car door for him.
"Mr. Collins."
He was leaving so early today, which wasn't Sean's usual style.
His good mood soured by Hans's interference, Sean said languidly, "Let's go somewhere else."
"The Kensing Club?" Steward glanced at him in the rearview mirror, trying to read his expression, then suggested, "Or the Vail Hot
Springs?"
It was a hot spring resort Sean had bought years ago, the outdoor spring pool surrounded by beautiful gardens and mountains all
year round, with snow-capped peaks visible in the winter.
Both the indoor and outdoor springs offered a great view and were a delight to soak in.
"What's there to do?" Sean sounded utterly uninterested.
Not wanting to irritate him further, the assistant paused before suggesting, "Shall | take you hthen?"
Perhaps Sean could get srest. Seeing no response from Sean, Steward drove towards his residence, cautiously reporting, "The
man in the basement cracked just a little. He admitted to being involved in that incident years ago, but he claimed ignorance
about the main instigator or the real purpose.”
"Is that what you call cracking?" Sean scoffed, clearly unimpressed, "Seems like the beating wasn't tough enough. Find sguys
with more muscle to 'entertain' him properly."
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"Yes," Steward had been with Sean for years, but the nonchalant cruelty in his boss's voice always sent a chill down his spine.
When Sean remained silent, Steward continued, "Also, the old fart on the board said you're too capricious, turning the whole
industry upside down - everyone's profits depend on your mood. He even suggested that the cat and mouse ga while back
was all your doing."
"Since when is my business open for discussion? A man on his last legs should be more concerned with saving up for his coffin."
"l agree. A lesson is in order." Steward glanced at the rearview mirror, "I'll handle it; no trouble to you, Mr. Collins."
"When have | ever been afraid of trouble?"
Right, Steward shrank a little, "One more thing, sir. Mr. and Mrs. Collins have calledmore than once, asking when you're
coming home."
Sean hadn't expected his sister to be persistent enough to have their parents incessantly calling him for the past six months.
Even Hans, coming all the way to Belloria for business, had made a special trip here for her, hoping to get him to chome.