Home / Urban / Rise Of The Student Billionaire / Chapter 177: Is Isabella Interested In Benjamin?
Chapter 177: Is Isabella Interested In Benjamin?
Author: Dragon Sly
last update2024-02-18 20:38:06

Benjamin chuckled modestly, his demeanor relaxed as he sought to ease Isabella's concerns. "I'm no important guest," he explained with a gentle smile, "I just knew someone here and pleaded with them. That's why we're getting all this treatment."

Isabella's expression softened as she absorbed his words, a sense of relief washing over her. "Oh really?" she remarked, her voice tinged with gratitude. "He's not only good at detecting paintings, he's also good at making unpleasant situations look pleasant.”

Meanwhile, as the lid of the serving dish was lifted, a wave of savory aroma filled the air, enveloping the room in a tantalizing embrace. The rich scent of buttery lobster mingled with the delicate fragrance of fresh herbs and spices.

Not only that, expensive wines were also served. People around all turned around to look at Benjamin and Isabella table amazed.

Benjamin looked at Isabella with a warm smile and said, "Kill your hunger now."

Isabella nodded in agreement, returning his sm
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  • Chapter 461

    Darnell’s eyes darted around the room. For a long moment he said nothing, counting on fear to buy him silence. Then, beaten and in pain, he began to speak—slowly, haltingly, as if each name peeled a layer off him.“It wasn’t just one place,” he said at last. “There were men who liked profit more than question. A few ministers—small ones, not the public faces—who took payments to look the other way. A customs official in Port Qadir, Fahad Qari, who helped clear shipments. A registrar at the land office who put properties in nominees—Omar Nadir. A judge who delayed cases when asked—Judge Basim Haroun. A shipping magnate—Rafik Sayeed—who let containers disappear for a fee.”He swallowed, the words tasting like ash. “And businessmen—people with legitimate fronts. Galleria Group’s director, Marwan Al-Issa, washed invoices sometimes; Crescent Commodities handled fake paperwork.”Abdelkarim’s jaw tightened. Benjamin's face stayed expressionless, but Benjamin watched each name, measuring weig

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    Darnell’s eyes darted around the room. For a long moment he said nothing, counting on fear to buy him silence. Then, beaten and in pain, he began to speak—slowly, haltingly, as if each name peeled a layer off him.“It wasn’t just one place,” he said at last. “There were men who liked profit more than question. A few ministers—small ones, not the public faces—who took payments to look the other way. A customs official in Port Qadir, Fahad Qari, who helped clear shipments. A registrar at the land office who put properties in nominees—Omar Nadir. A judge who delayed cases when asked—Judge Basim Haroun. A shipping magnate—Rafik Sayeed—who let containers disappear for a fee.”He swallowed, the words tasting like ash. “And businessmen—people with legitimate fronts. Galleria Group’s director, Marwan Al-Issa, washed invoices sometimes; Crescent Commodities handled fake paperwork.”Abdelkarim’s jaw tightened. Benjamin's face stayed expressionless, but Benjamin watched each name, measuring weig

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    Darnell’s face went ashen. He shook his head violently, scrambling back in his chair, one hand pressed to his bleeding thigh. “No—please,” he sputtered, voice cracking. “Please, don’t kill me. I’ll do anything. I’ll work for you. I’ll— I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t—please, I can pay you, I can manage things for you. I’ll be useful. Don’t kill me.” He looked to Benjamin , eyes pleading and frantic. “You can use me. I’ll hand over everything. I’ll tell you everything. Don’t—please.” His whole body trembled with fear, the reality of his defeat written plain on his face. Benjamin watched him, expression unreadable. Benjamin glanced toward the doorway. “Abdelkarim — come in.” Abdelkarim stepped forward, moving close enough for Benjamin to whisper in his ear. The words were low and quick; Abdelkarim listened, then gave a slow, determined nod. He took a seat opposite Darnell, folding his hands on his knees. His face was hard, but his voice was calm. “Talk,” Abdelkarim said. “

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