?Chapter 677:


    “A billion dors?” Freya raised a brow. “Did you forget Lawrence is notoriously stingy?”


    “He’ll pay,” Jacob said with a yawn, his tone indifferent. “We’ve been rivals for years, and he’s never called me once. This time, he called nonstop.”


    “I’ve got nothing else to add.” Freya handed it back. “Have him sign it first. I’ll get out of the car once he does.”


    She couldn’t show her face until Lawrence agreed.


    If he saw her, he’d dump Kristian on her without a second thought. If Kristian died, she’d bear the me. If he lived, Lawrence could still wring out the original deal.


    Jacob gave azy nod, taking the paper and pen as he stepped out. He was dressed in a loose-knit sweater, looking every bit as unbothered as ever.


    Lawrence had been pacing in the corridor since the call, unsure when K or Jacob would appear.


    He waited. And waited.


    Then finally, footsteps echoed.


    As he turned to see who it was, a papernded before him, and a voice followed—dry and devoid of emotion, “Sign, and I save him. Refuse, and I walk away. You’ve got one minute.”


    Lawrence frowned in confusion.


    He took the paper and saw Jacob standing in front of him, still looking infuriatingly casual.


    “You’ve got fifty seconds,” Jacob reminded him.


    “I’ll sign,” Lawrence said, grabbing the pen—then froze at the figure on the page.


    He pointed at it, stunned. “A billion?”


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    “Yes.”


    “That’s daylight robbery!” Lawrence gaped, incredulous at how bold the man was.


    When Jacob finally addressed Lawrence, his voice carried a biting chill. “You can refuse. No one’s twisting your arm.”


    Lawrence clenched his jaw, a wave of frustration crashing over him, but he kept it under control.


    He had half a mind to hurl the paper and pen right at Jacob’s smug face and shout, “I refuse.”


    But deep down, he knew that giving in to that impulse would spell disaster for Kristian, and everything he’d done to lock his deal with him would unravel in seconds.


    He couldn’t let that happen.


    “Can we bring it down a bit?” Lawrence asked, trying to sound more agreeable than he felt. “Say… half a billion?”


    Without hesitation, Jacob yanked the paper from his grasp and strolledzily toward the door, his posture dripping with dismissal.


    “I’ll sign,” Lawrence muttered atst, feeling utterly backed into a corner.


    “Ten seconds left,” Jacob said, handing the paper back to him, his tone clipped and disinterested, eyes barely awake. “Or it’s off the table.”


    Lawrence choked down his irritation.


    Someday, he swore to himself, he’d make sure this smug bastard paid for everyst thing he’d taken.


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