This day was a celebration for fake soccer fans and a victory for the gamblers.
Every platform across the internet turned into a showcase for bragging. From a few hundred bucks to hundreds of thousands, all kinds of show-off posts erged endlessly.
As ti went on, the situation intensified to the point that even the authorities had to step in, ordering major platforms to restrict this type of information.
The secret rivalry between Lu Liang and Su Shimin didn’t have a clear winner or loser, but as the news spread, at least Lu Liang didn’t win.
"In the future, it’s best to do less of this kind of thing."
Lu Liang sighed, putting away his phone, having just ended a call with Yang Zhenyuan.
Old Yang called, saying they needed to temporarily freeze his personal account to cut off the source of the information and prevent internet users who got a taste of success from falling into the abyss of gambling.
"Finally, soone can punish you." Little Wang took a deep breath, feeling extrely pleased.
"Aren’t you leaving?" Lu Liang looked at him with unfriendly eyes.
"I’m leaving now."
Little Wang chuckled, leaving with the black girl, quite satisfied with her, planning to leave for another encounter.
The villa, bustling last night, in an instant, just had Lu Liang and Camila left.
"Darling, let’s go for a ride."
Camila suddenly took out the keys with a Dodge logo.
She had just gone around the garage and found a high-performance Arican muscle car she really liked.
The black top-of-the-line Hellcat, with a V8 engine, was known for its powerful performance and unique sound.
"I’m waiting for soone."
Lu Liang sat alone at the bar, gazing across the sea.
Just then, a yellow taxi stopped at the door, and Lu Liang also received a call from the security personnel.
"Let him in." He turned his head, gently patting Camila on the buttocks: "Go take a spin, I have so business to discuss."
"Okay, rember to call when you’re done." Camila held Lu Liang’s right cheek and kissed his left cheek.
Shaking the car keys, she walked with joyful little steps, like a queen inspecting her domain, towards the garage.
As soon as she walked out, Harris walked in.
Lu Liang looked up at him, then continued to fiddle at the bar: "Want sothing to drink?"
"A glass of ice water will do, sir."
Harris was very respectful.
The suit on Lu Liang looked slightly tight on him, but it accentuated his physique, highlighting the advantage of a large Caucasian fra, giving off a strong sense of power.
"Not drinking?" Lu Liang examined him with a smile, pleased with his choice.
Harris shook his head, "No more drinking."
Two years ago, he was the youngest banker in New York, even in the entire U.S.
Financial terms and numbers turned into sharp swords between his lips, each transaction like a death sentence for his opponent.
He was surrounded by praise, and no one dared to defy him. Those who did were harshly retaliated against.
A few bottles of wine, and he beca swollen with pride.
He believed the world should bow beneath his feet and that he was the king of the world.
Until that night when he tasted the bitter fruit.
Back then, the competition for Vice President of the Queen Branch had two contenders: him and soone nad Roger.
Although Harris erged victorious from the competition, becoming the youngest Vice President in Citibank’s history, he never knew when to stop.
Whenever they t, he would provoke the other, angering them. In the past, they endured without arguing back, accepting it silently.
But that ti, perhaps due to long-standing endurance, the other dared to retort, and Harris, in a fit of rage, ordered his subordinates to beat him, leaving the person living with a urinary bag for life.
Both worked for Citibank, so the headquarters didn’t protect him; despite spending all his savings, he couldn’t avoid the disaster of prison.
Initially, Harris naively thought that with his talent, this incident would only make his life more legendary.
Only when he stepped into prison, losing his freedom and hope, did he truly realize what had happened.
The experiences in prison were unbearable to recall, like throwing a naked girl into a slum in India.
After being released, it was as if the world abandoned him, with old friends and lovers avoiding him like the plague, looking at him like sothing dirty.
Today, Harris no longer regrets whether it was drugs or alcohol back then.
He only knows that a last chance stands before him, and he would never touch those things again.
Lu Liang smiled, aware of Harris’s background, understanding why he’s refraining from alcohol, handing him a glass of ice water while picking up the contract Harris brought.
Looking at the three contracts, all with settled certificates, he smiled and asked, "Tell , how did you get them back?"
"I t a lot of friends in prison, including Italians and black people. I spent so money getting them to keep an eye on a few kids. anwhile, I went to the company to ask their fathers for the loans."
Harris slowly narrated, cherishing the opportunity, mobilizing all his remaining available connections, aiming to give a perfect answer sheet.
"Threatening so openly, doesn’t it leave any evidence?" Lu Liang asked with a smile.
"My friend just sent a few selfie photos, but unfortunately, the creditors saw them." Harris’s lips curved into a long-lost smile.
Lu Liang’s question confird that he handled it correctly.
Lu Liang didn’t care what ans were used, only caring if the job was done cleanly.
"Were all three done the sa way?" Lu Liang asked again.
"Only two succeeded, the two in New York. The last one was a complete bastard who didn’t care for his family." Harris said.
"How was the last one solved then?"
"I went to De Laobao Research Company, spent so money, and bought all the personnel data of that company."
Harris paused for a few seconds and said, "The boss is a bastard who doesn’t care for his family, which doesn’t an his subordinates are the sa."
Using the sa thod, he found a family-loving CFO who only needed to provide the past quarter’s financial details.
The other party had no reason to refuse and received an eighty-thousand-dollar sports car afterward.
Through financial details, Harris found so tax returns that the company deliberately concealed and then approached the company’s boss again.
This ti the negotiation went smoothly, handing over the overdue fines because he provided a sche on how to better avoid IRS investigations.
In the United States, bankers spend their lives fighting two types of people; competitors in the industry rank second, and the IRS is the number one enemy.
Small companies, with their limited vision, can only use nave thods to conceal, but Citibank, one of the top banks in Arica, uses thods so legitimate that even if the IRS investigated for three days and nights, they’d find nothing.
Because all channels are formal, and all procedures are legal.
With fifty states in the federation, each with different laws.
The IRS treats tax points differently in each state, creating room for their manipulation.
"Well in both the broad scope and the details, well done."
Lu Liang applauded, wearing a satisfied smile, extending his hand, saying, "Mr. Harris, on behalf of Delii, I formally hire you as our bank’s consulting advisor."
Harris held back his excitent, quickly stood up, offering his right hand, "Sir, it is my honor." .
"You don’t want to hear about benefits? That’s not how a qualified banker behaves." Lu Liang laughed.
Harris, looking serious, bowed and saluted, "This is my last chance, a gift bestowed by you, sir."
He used this to express his position, that without Lu Liang, he wouldn’t have a new beginning.
Lu Liang laughed happily, "Annual salary is set at fifty thousand dollars for the ti being, an apartnt in New York, and a luxury car."
He patted Harris on the shoulder, "This is just the beginning. What you lost and never had, you will have in the future."
"Thank you, sir, I will not disappoint you and will beco the sharpest blade in your hand, tearing through all obstacles ahead for you."
Harris was very serious, pressing his middle and index fingers together, doing the sa with his ring and little fingers, spreading his thumb over his chest.
This gesture represents the Hebrew letter "", aning to swear by the na of God, with violators condemned to eternal damnation in hell.
Reviews
All reviews (0)