However, he has never found a reason or excuse to end things amicably and has even been intentionally waiting for the woman to speak first.


    Yet, he was unprepared for the wave of sadness that washed over him when the woman finally said goodbye.


    Without Zyaire in his life, Huzaifa knew that his future on Hong Kong Ind would be uncertain, with no support system. They had shared both hardships and sesses together. The staggering loss of ten billion US dors over the past decade had already taken a heavy toll on him. As he looked at Zyaire, he realized that his previous requests for financial help were not unreasonable;pared to Charlie, he felt like a saint asking for so little.


    Thus, he found himself wishing to endure this predicament. He was immersed in the world of Zyaire’s newspaper group during that time.


    Unexpectedly, Zyaire seemed to want nothing to do with him.<h3 style="background-color:DodgerBlue">


    Feeling helpless, Huzaifa sighed deeply, overwhelmed with sadness.


    At that moment, Zyaire, sitting beside him, appeared quite annoyed and said, “What are you still doing here? Why don’t you leave? Do you have to stand next to me?”


    Huzaifa sighed again and turned to Salmaan, asking politely, “Excuse me, may I leave…”


    Salmaan, coldly tossing Pankaj, who was slumped over his shoulders, in front of Huzaifa, replied, “Take your son away.”


    Huzaifa shot a disgusted nce at Pankaj, feeling utterly drained.


    This reckless son had squandered a fortune of ten billion dors in just one afternoon, and Huzaifa was furious he hadn’t acted more decisively then.


    In that moment, Huzaifa felt an overwhelming urge to sever ties with his son, just as Zyaire clearly wanted nothing to do with him.


    So he eximed angrily, “I don’t want this kid! Just leave him on the side of the road to fend for himself!”


    Salmaan shot back, “Are you telling me what to do?”


    Huzaifa quickly waved his hands in protest, saying, “I wouldn’t dare… I wouldn’t dare…”


    Salmaan responded coldly, “If you want this kid, take him. If you don’t want him, I’ll send him to Syria directly. You have three seconds to decide: one, two, three!”


    Before Huzaifa could even think, Salmaan added, “Since you don’t want him, then our Wanlong Pce will take him. I’ll handle it.”


    Fear gripped Huzaifa, and he hurriedly knelt, pleading, “I want him! He’s my son, I’ll take him!” Salmaan retorted, “If you want him, take him now! If he doesn’t leave within a minute, I’ll ship him out!”


    “Let’s go, let’s go…” Huzaifa was on the verge of tears as he clumsily picked up Pankaj and stumbled out of the Tide Club.


    Outside, the rain was pouring at the entrance of the Wave Club.


    Since Huzaifa hade directly from Zyaire’s home, he hadn’t arranged for a driver or any entourage to follow him.


    Initially, he had thought Zyaire, who often sought money from him, would surely help locate his son and take care of everything else afterward.


    He never anticipated things would end like this.


    With no other options, Huzaifa could only stand by the roadside and g down a taxi, taking the unconscious Pankaj to the hospital, feeling utterly humiliated.


    Upon arrival at the hospital, after a thorough examination, the emergency doctor confirmed that Pankaj was not in critical condition, which granted Huzaifa a small sense of relief.


    Just then, the doctor informed him, “Mr. Huzaifa, Young Master Pankaj is awake.”


    Hurriedly, Huzaifa entered the ward, finding Pankaj lying on the bed, his face bruised and battered, crying out, “Dad… please, Dad… you have to ask my godfather to help me out, Dad!” The doctor quickly intervened, saying, “Master Pankaj, you’ve just woken up. You need to stay calm!”<fnf940> Th?s chapter is updated by find?novel</fnf940>


    In a sh of anger, Huzaifa jumped onto the bed, kicked Pankaj, and shouted hysterically, “You little punk! You’ve caused me so much trouble, and you dare ask me for help? Look at what you’ve done! I’m going to make you pay today!”