Reborn to Build a Billion-Dollar Empire

Chapter 003

Victor Hale smirked, eyes narrowing to slits. "Whether I'm talking nonsense or not, Bruno, you know the truth. You've got your eye on that piece of land your boss acquired, don't you?"

The memory was crystal clear in Victor's mind. Bruno Kade and Roxy had worked together from the inside and outside to siphon off assets. When it all came out, Bruno had been hacked to death with machetes, and Roxy had been torn apart alive by a mastiff.

Bruno's brow furrowed. The land deal was known only to a tight inner circle, and every one of them was tight-lipped about it. Yet this kid had just laid bare his innermost thoughts with disturbing accuracy.

"Who the hell are you?" Bruno demanded.

"Just an ordinary guy," Victor replied, clapping a hand on Bruno's shoulder and lowering his voice. He glanced toward the doorway. "But I've got a knack for mind reading and fortune-telling. Here's some advice: tone it down. Your boss is already watching you."

Bruno spun around. Sure enough, someone was lurking by the door, eavesdropping. A shadow of unease crossed his face. If that was one of his boss's planted informants, he could not touch him, not yet, because doing so would only spook the target.

The realization hit him like ice water. His supposedly clever moves had been under scrutiny all along. When he thought back to those wild, reckless nights with Roxy, a chill ran down his spine. He'd been playing with fire without even knowing it.

Victor's voice was smooth, almost hypnotic. "Relax. Your boss hasn't connected all the dots yet. But right now, you're in too deep to back out. I get it. If you're willing to hear me out, all of this can be resolved. You'll get everything you want."

Victor had already died once. He had weathered storms most people could not imagine. The sheer presence he exuded in that moment made Bruno pause, caught off guard by the unexpected weight in Victor's demeanor.

"What do I have to do?" Bruno asked quietly.

"Lend me another fifty grand, ten days, and I'll give you two hundred thousand back." Victor held up his fingers.

Bruno nearly cursed aloud but swallowed the impulse. He took a slow, measured breath. "How sure are you?"

The original hundred thousand plus this fifty thousand put him a hundred and fifty in debt. Repaying two hundred meant another fifty in interest. That was not pocket change.

"One hundred percent. If I'm wrong, you can have my life." Victor knew Bruno was hooked.

"Fine. I'll trust you one more time." Bruno's eyes narrowed to slits. He gestured to one of his men, who tossed a stack of fifty thousand onto the table. In 2003, fifty grand could buy a small apartment outright. If Victor hadn't once been riding high in business, there was no way he'd have access to this kind of money.

Cash in hand, Victor lit a cigarette and took a long drag before heading to a sportsbook. At this hour, the place was nearly empty.

"Boss, I want to put fifty thousand on the Detroit Pistons to win outright," Victor said, sliding the money across the counter.

"Huh? What!" The shop owner nodded reflexively, then froze. Five bucks or fifty thousand? When he saw the thick bundles of hundred-dollar bills, even someone who handled money every day couldn't hide his shock.

"Kid, are you out of your mind? The Pistons' starting five against the Lakers' F4? They don't stand a chance. Sure, bet the long shot if you want, but keep it small."

Victor didn't look like some trust fund brat. The owner wasn't about to ruin someone's life for a tiny commission.

"It's fine," Victor explained smoothly. "My cousin placed a million-dollar off-the-books bet on the Lakers to win. He's terrified of losing everything, so he asked me to hedge with this."

"Oh, I see. That makes sense." The owner nodded, understanding immediately. This marquee matchup had odds of 0.1 to 7.

If the Lakers won, Victor's cousin would still profit by fifty grand. Even if there was an upset, he'd at least cut his losses.

"Here you go. Hold onto this." The owner handed over the ticket with a polite smile.

Victor pocketed the slip and started toward home, ready to enjoy the game. But the moment he stepped outside, someone blocked his path.

"Well, well. Borrowed money from Bruno and went straight to the sportsbook!" Victor squinted at him. The face was familiar, one of Bruno's lackeys.

"Mind your own business," Victor snapped.

"Oh, acting tough now, are we? Just you wait, Bruno's on his way. You're dead meat!" The young punk's face was full of contempt.

Victor's brow creased. So Bruno didn't trust him after all. He'd had someone tail him. Victor had been so focused on placing the bet that he hadn't noticed.

Within minutes, a cargo van pulled up to the curb. Bruno stormed over, his expression murderous.

"You playing me for a fool? I lend you another fifty grand, and you blow it on sports betting? Let me see what the hell you bought!" Bruno was a man well-versed in drinking, gambling, and every vice in between.

"The Pistons to win? Are you insane?" When he saw the ticket, Bruno sucked in a sharp breath. This little punk had some nerve. Why not bet on the Lakers? That was a safe, steady return. The series was tied 1-1. The Lakers had dropped one game on purpose, but with their star-studded F4 lineup riding a wave of hype and raw power, there was no way they'd lose again. And this idiot had just gone all in on the Pistons with fifty grand. It was no different from throwing the money away.

"Grab him!" Bruno barked, his face dark with rage. His men dragged Victor into the van.

Then came the beating. Fists and boots rained down until Victor blacked out.

When he finally came to, voices drifted into his ears, faint and fragmented.

"Roxy, what if we just harvest his organs? We could get some money back, at least. The kid's brain might be fried, but his organs should still be good."

"You're the ones who pushed him over the edge." The voice was sweet, elegant, almost musical. But to Victor, it was terrifying. "I've told you a thousand times: debt collection requires finesse. You just kept scaring him until he snapped. What a waste of such a pretty face. Maybe you should send him to work as a male escort. Ask around with your contacts and see what he's worth."

Organ harvesting and male escort work? Victor's blood ran cold. Had he fallen into a den of criminals?

"I think the kid's waking up." Someone came over and kicked him twice. Victor figured there was no point in pretending anymore. He opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was a stunning, mature woman in her late twenties. She was draped in a red halter dress paired with black boots, a glittering diamond pendant nestled in the valley of her cleavage. The look was effortlessly sensual and impossibly chic.

That outfit would still turn heads twenty years from now. Beautiful people really could make anything look good.

"Bruno. R-Roxy." Victor forced himself to greet them, his voice tight.

"Thought you were dead, kid." Bruno glared at him. If that hundred and fifty grand went down the drain, Bruno's own life would get a lot harder. He was already regretting believing a word Victor had said.

"Victor Hale, right? I've heard of you. You had quite a reputation once." Roxy swirled a glass of wine in her hand, taking a delicate sip. Every movement was graceful, captivating. "But did you really think stock trading was something just anyone could do? You had no self-awareness. Losing everything was inevitable."

She really was a knockout. No wonder so many men had fallen at her feet.

"If I'm not mistaken, Roxy, you trade stocks too." Victor's voice was calm, measured. "I'd suggest you offload some positions. Otherwise, you're going to run into trouble. I can recommend a few good short-term plays for you."

Victor remembered it all too well. In his previous life, Roxy had been heavily invested in a few stocks, and when they kept tanking, she'd ended up stuck in a losing position. Desperate and listening to bad advice, she'd secretly sold off Mr. Reyes's land to cover her losses. That's when it all came out.