<b>Chapter 29 </b>
“Didn’t expect you to have such a temper, Ms. Jensen,” one of the men in the booth remarked, sounding more amused than surprised. “No wonder Mr. Hanson took a liking to you.”
“Care to join us for a drink, Mrs. Hanson?” another added, deliberately emphasizing the title.
Richard’s eyes stayed fixed on Reba,pletely ignoring her defiance. “I said go pour the drinks–now.”
Reba’s hand shook slightly as she gripped the broken bottle. Her feet crept slowly toward the door.
Everyone in the room caught her movement.
“Mr. Jensen, looks like you’re not serious about rebuilding yourpany,” one of the men said, setting his ss down with a sharp thud. His displeasure was clear. “In that case, I’ll pass on this toast.”
A sharp, merciless glint flicked in Richard’s eyes. ‘I’ve worked so hard to set up these connections. I’ll never let this defiant daughter mess this up.‘
When he’d first learned that Reba had married Jeffrey, he thought he could use that to save thepany. But she’d told Jeffrey she had nothing to do with him, causing him to miss countless opportunities because of Jeffrey.
“This is yourst warning,” Richard said, his eyes locked on the jagged bottle in her hand. “Or don’t me me for a tough
dad.”
Reba didn’t even respond–the loving dad he used to be was long gone.
Since she wouldn’t back down, Richard didn’t wait. He lunged forward, trying to grab the bottle from her hand.
Reba swung wildly–the broken ss glinting under the dim light.
But Richard was desperate to win over the men in the room. Even if it meant getting cut, he had to take her down.
Suddenly, the jagged edge of the bottle sliced deep into Richard’s hand, drawing blood.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he tightened his grip on the broken ss and wrestled it out of her grasp. His eyes turned cold as he mmed the bottle onto the floor, shattering itpletely.
“Now go pour the drinks for the gentlemen,” he growled, his voice low and threatening.
—
“Don’t make me call the cops,” Reba shot back, her phone screen lit up with 911. “I’d be happy to escort everyone here to the police station.”
“Call them. What are they going to do? Arrest us for asking you to toast?” Richard scoffed,pletely unimpressed. He’d been ying this game too long to be scared.
“Sure, toasting’s not against thew, Reba said, smearing her lipstick and scanning the room. “But when the cops see me like this–bruised, hair a mess–you think they’ll buy this as just a friendly drink?”
“You!” Richard seethed, trembling with anger.
<b>13:25 </b><b>Wed</b><b>, </b><b>17 </b><b>Sept </b>
“The hallway security cameras definitely caught you dragging me from the other room,” Reba continued, <b>her </b><b>voice </b>steady and her resolve clear. “Want to guess how this will y out in court?”
The tension had reached a point where everyone lost interest. No one wanted this to turn into a police incident.
“Maybe next time, Mr. Jensen, make sure your daughter knows how to behave before you bring her out,” one guy
muttered.
Another chimed in, “If you can’t even control your daughter, maybe we should reconsider doing business with you.”
“No wonder Mr. Hanson never lifted a finger to help you, even after marrying your daughter. He must’ve seen right through you,” a third scoffed.
The criticism kepting, eachment digging deeper into Richard’s pride. But he needed these men, so he forced a smile and said whatever sounded agreeable.
Reba slipped her phone into her pocket and walked out. Only when she was inside a cab did she finally let herself
breathe.
She’d held it together through sheer willpower just now. Like Jeffrey once said, he’d shielded her so well she’d never truly experienced the ugly side of the world. So when Richard dragged her into that room and treated her like that, she could barely react.
But slowly, she had pulled herself together. And she had realized one thing: now that she and Jeffrey were divorced, except for Richard, old enemies might starting out of the woodwork.
After all, Jeffrey had taken care of <i>so </i>many who crossed her. And this world was full of people just waiting to kick her when she was down. The weight of that truth sat heavily in Reba’s chest.
Just then, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Richard: [You’ll pay for what you did today.]
Reba blocked him without a second thought. She didn’t know what that “price” would be–but whatever it was, she’d
face it.
On the other end, Richard was still fuming, typing out threat after threat. But halfway through, it hit him: he had very little left to hold over Reba.
Samuel was Jeffrey’s son. Amelia’s background was too mysterious–if he actually touched her, who knew what her powerful connections might do to him.
After Reba left, Stanley returned to the private room door, peeking inside again. With the phone still in hand, he muttered, “You said Reba was meek and mild. What just happened doesn’t match that story.”
“Bring Richard upstairs,” Jeffrey said, his voice calm but edged with ice.
Stanley paused, and then it hit him. “Wait–you’re here?”
Jeffrey said nothing, just releasing Stanley’s phone.
<b>13:25 </b><b>Wed</b><b>, </b><b>17 </b><b>Sept </b>
46%
‘I’m the president of Garcia Group, not some random errand boy!‘ Stanley grumbled silently. Still, he stepped into the private room as told.
Richard, who had been typing with a dark expression, stopped, ready to greet Stanley.
But before he could get a word out, Stanley shed a tight smile. “Mr. Jensen, someone upstairs would like a word.”
Richard followed Stanley upstairs, anxiety tightening his chest.
The door opened to reveal Jeffrey lounging on the sofa, legs crossed. His gaze was cold, unreadable, and filled with quiet authority.
Richard shivered instinctively. Fear–raw and immediate–washed over him.
Stanley strolled in casually and said to Jeffrey, “He’s here.”
“M–Mr. Hanson,” Richard stammered, his earlier bravadopletely gone. The memory of Jeffrey’s past warnings rushed back, chilling him to the bone.
Jeffrey’s lips curved slightly. “Mr. Jensen, you want to rebuild yourpany?”
Unsure what was meant, Richard answered honestly, “Yeah.”
“I have an opportunity for you,” Jeffrey said, casually swirling his ss of wine, his expression unreadable.
Richard felt a chill run down his spine and quickly exined himself, “I swear I won’t bother Reba again. Today, I just wanted to catch up. It’s been a long time, after all.”
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow slightly. “Oh?”
Richard was on the verge of losing his mind. The pressure was so intense he could barely think straight, let alone figure out what Jeffrey was thinking.
“Jeffrey’s offering you a chance to rebuild yourpany. Why so nervous?” Stanley cut in, easing the tension.
Richard nced at Jeffrey’s expressionless face and ventured, “Really?”
“What else?” Stanley picked up a bottle of strong liquor and poured a ss. “Jeffrey never jokes around–you don’t
know?”
Richard thought it through. He hadn’t dealt with Jeffrey much, but everyone in their circle knew one thing: Jeffrey might be ruthless, but he never broke a promise.
“I want in, Mr. Hanson,” Richard said. He had nothing left to lose, and Jeffrey’s favor could be his salvation. “What’s this opportunity?”
Jeffrey’s eyes drifted toward the row of strong liquor bottles on the table.
Richard understood immediately. He walked over, picked up a bottle, and started pouring. “A toast to you, Mr. Hanson,” he
<b>13:26 </b><b>Wed</b>, <b>17 </b>Sept
said, raising his ss.
146<b>% </b>
He downed it in one go. As Jeffrey’s expression hadn’t softened, he poured another… and another. Each time, he forced out anotherpliment. After two full bottles, he was running out of things to say–and started feeling the effects.
After opening the third bottle, Richard mustered his courage and began, “Mr. Hanson…”
“We’ll talk once you’ve finished drinking,” Jeffrey replied, his tone cool and detached.
Richard nced at the drinks on the table. “You mean this ss in my hand, or the whole bottle I just opened?”
“If one ss could buy you a deal, all the wine in Jsburg would’ve been drunk dry by now,” Stanley cut in casually. “When Mr. Hanson says ‘finish,‘ he means everything on this table.”
Richard’s eyes widened. ‘Everything? That much liquor could literally kill me.‘
AD