“No,” Marcus said. "He's not the one."The whole corridor was drowned in silence.Jessica's face stiffened in disbelief. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She was certain that the man standing before her was the mastermind terrorizing her empire.Thomas stood frozen, his hand still resting on Marcus's shoulder. Confusion was written all over his face.Bruce remained perfectly calm, his gaze locked on Marcus Griffin. Thomas cleared his throat and took a step back from the wheelchair. "Marcus, take another look. The description you gave me, this man matches everything you said."Marcus maintained eye contact with Bruce. His voice was as steady as a rock. "I already told you. That person is not Bruce Griffin. I know who my former son-in-law is. I have never met this man before."Thomas stiffened. He looked over at Bruce, then shifted his gaze back to Marcus. "You're certain?""I'm certain."Thomas took another step back and ran his hand through his hair. He was so sure he

The next day, after a long afternoon of strategic meetings with Victoria Cross and feeding fake information to Jessica Russell, Bruce finally decided to retire home for the day. While driving his Camry down the road, the car suddenly gave a cough that sounded like it was about to die. Thick smoke poured out from under the hood, causing the engine to sputter and jerk. Bruce managed to pull the car over to the side of the road just before the engine finally died.He remained seated in silence for a moment, his hands resting on the steering wheel. He then stepped out, walked to the front of the car, and lifted the hood.Smoke streamed out as if a ghost were escaping from a tomb. The engine block was cracked, and its wires were hanging loose. Fluids were dripping down, pooling into a black puddle on the asphalt.Bruce stared at it. The Camry had served him since his divorce. Oswald had purchased it second-hand for a few thousand dollars. The car was supposed to be thrown away right aft

Preston Thorne stood frozen, his face pale, his mouth hanging open. The silence in the showroom was deafening. Every eye was fixed on him, waiting for him to grovel.A salaryman had just outbid him in front of everyone. The humiliation burned hotter than anger."You... you want me to grovel?" Preston's voice cracked. "Never. I would rather die."Bruce's expression hardened."You're such a coward and a fool," Bruce said quietly. "You made a deal And now you want to walk away because you lost? How pathetic" Preston's face flushed red. His hands shook at his sides. That was the first time that day he didn’t seem rich.He looked exposed.Bruce glanced at the manager standing nearby. "I understand that Mr. Thorne is a valued customer. However, if you permanently ban him from this showroom, I will personally connect you with wealthy contacts. People in my circle who will frequently buy from you."The manager's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"A smirk crossed Bruce's face. "Think about it.

From the moment Bruce pulled out of the dealership, he noticed that Preston was following him. The young man just couldn't deal with losing, and being humiliated was even worse for him. So he followed Bruce like a child chasing a schoolyard bully's car, hoping to catch an address.Bruce had intentionally guided Preston to his apartment. He wanted him to give a report to his father. He wanted the Thorne family to be confused.A mysterious man with terrifying money living like a salaryman was far more disturbing than a billionaire showing off private jets and mansions.When Preston finally drove away, Bruce stood quietly behind the curtain of his apartment window, watching the Bentley disappear down the street.A faint smile touched his lips. "Sooner or later, Norman Thorne will make his move."He loosened his tie slightly. “Oh well,” he said calmly. "Until that time comes, I am prepared for any action he decides to take against me."Bruce's room remained silent. He glanced over his s

The outdoor coffee shop was nestled on a peaceful side street, away from the busy crowds of downtown. A few patrons were scattered around: a young woman typing on her laptop, an elderly couple sharing a pastry, and a businessman reading a newspaper. Bruce was the first to arrive. He picked a table at the back, sitting with his back to the brick wall, eyes scanning around for his date. He ordered a cup of coffee and then waited. As he waited, he quickly spotted two Black Foot Clan operatives sitting apart inside the café, disguised as regular customers. Another clan member was parked across the street, pretending to read a newspaper. Bruce still felt that the level of security imposed on him by Kenshin, Chief of the Black Foot Clan, was unnecessary. Nevertheless, he never complained. With his relatives scheming against him, he had to be extremely cautious. Five minutes later, Jessica Russell appeared. She had on a plain black dress and sunglasses, with her hair tied back in a