Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm Chapter 434 - 433: Complete Control, Betraying His Colleague

"You all stay downstairs. I'll take Martin to the study."

Jas Hendricks instructed his subordinates.

As Martin and Jas went upstairs, the driver of the rcedes suddenly tugged at Donovan and Sandy Glenn, lowering his voice.

"Alright, spill it. How much did Martin give you? And how much is he offering ?"

Donovan and Sandy Glenn exchanged confused glances.

"What are you talking about?" Sandy Glenn asked.

"Don't play dumb. You two weren't exactly subtle in the car," Michael Hunter—the rcedes driver—snorted.

He assud they were trying to keep their cut to themselves. His face darkened as he threatened, "You two just fed that Martin guy a ton of useful intel. Do you want to tell the boss?"

Donovan and Sandy Glenn shared another look, both genuinely baffled.

"Dammit, what the hell are you saying? What did we leak?" Donovan said.

Michael Hunter stared at them in shock. Since when did these two have such great poker faces?

anwhile, upstairs, Martin followed Jas Hendricks into the study.

A young Eastern European maid brought in two cups of coffee before quietly leaving.

Jas Hendricks smiled. "Try it. It's authentic Blue Mountain coffee."

For reference, real Blue Mountain coffee cos from Jamaica's Blue Mountain region, specifically at altitudes over 1,000 ters.

Most coffee labeled as "Blue Mountain" elsewhere is just coffee grown in the surrounding areas. Only coffee grown at over 1,600 ters on those 6,000 hectares of land can be considered real Blue Mountain coffee, and global production is always under 900 tons.

Given that only 10% is exported outside Japan, there's no way the cheap "Blue Mountain coffee" in most cafés is the real thing.

Martin took a sip. A rich fruity acidity filled his mouth, followed by layers of bitterness, sweetness, and smoothness exploding across his taste buds.

"Not bad," he said casually, setting down the cup. "Now, can we talk about why I'm here?"

Jas Hendricks took a sip as well, savoring the taste with a contented expression. After a mont, he spoke.

"Bush and Texas Oil Group want to delay you. Bush is one thing, but Texas Oil Group is the benefactor of my benefactors. I couldn't refuse them. So—"

Jas paused, looking at Martin. "You just need to stay in this villa for fifteen days. After that, my job is done."

"Fifteen days?"

Martin sneered.

There was no doubt that representatives from Texas Oil Group were already on a plane to Iraq.

"That's right. Just fifteen days."

Martin nodded, setting down his coffee.

"Can I make a phone call?"

"Of course. As long as you stay, you can do whatever you want—including those beautiful maids outside," Jas said, winking.

Martin didn't stop channeling his magic into Jas Hendricks. This guy was still resisting his control, and if Martin stopped, he could regain his senses in no ti.

Besides—

Martin suddenly thought that fully controlling this guy might not be a bad idea. Now that his magic had grown stronger, he could use so of his newer spells.

No rush. First, a phone call.

Taking out his phone, Martin dialed David Scott.

"David, I'll arrive in Abu Dhabi the day after tomorrow. Contact the Iraqi side imdiately—I want to et them as soon as I land."

"And don't tell anyone about this."

Hanging up, Martin turned back and saw Jas Hendricks looking unsettled.

Jas had heard Martin's entire conversation and couldn't help but say, "Mr. Martin, I'm afraid you won't be getting to Abu Dhabi the day after tomorrow."

As he spoke, he felt an odd discomfort, like he shouldn't have contradicted Martin in the first place.

"Really? I don't think so."

Martin faced Jas Hendricks and snapped his fingers.

Invisible magical energy surged from his fingertips, weaving together into a runic symbol.

Martin's face visibly paled.

Then, he gently blew on the rune and said, "Go."

Jas Hendricks was still staring in confusion when the rune silently entered his body. Magic tendrils spread through his nervous system, creeping through his entire body.

The middle-aged man shuddered—then dropped to one knee, bowing his head.

"Honored master, your servant, Jas Hendricks, pays his respects."

Martin grinned.

"Not bad."

Then he said, "Get up. No need to be overly formal. Just act natural—don't let anyone notice our connection. From now on, call Martin, and I'll call you Jas."

"Understood, Martin."

"Good."

Martin knew this guy would stay in his position until retirent—another fifteen years. A useful piece on the board.

He had never considered controlling the U.S. president—after all, a president's term was only four years, eight at most if reelected.

But high-ranking officials in key governnt agencies?

They could stay in power for decades.

When Martin and Jas returned downstairs, the FBI agents were surprised to see that their boss now seed to be on friendly terms with Martin.

They called each other by their first nas, joking around like old friends.

Michael Hunter blinked in confusion and once again leaned toward Donovan and Sandy Glenn.

"You sure there's nothing you want to tell ? And Martin didn't offer anything?"

Donovan: "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Sandy Glenn: "Are you losing your mind?"

Michael Hunter scowled. "Fine, don't bla for what happens next."

He marched over to Jas Hendricks. "Boss, I need to talk to you."

Jas Hendricks paused, then turned to Martin. "Martin, give a mont. We'll continue our conversation later."

He led Michael Hunter to a corner. "What is it, Michael?"

"Boss, Donovan and Sandy are working with Martin. I think they've been on his side for a while."

"Shut up. You can't just throw accusations at your colleagues."

"No, I an it! In the car, they told Martin all kinds of things."

"Hmph. I know for a fact that Donovan and Sandy didn't tell Martin anything. But you—what, trying to climb the ranks by selling out your colleagues?"

"No, I swear, I'm telling the truth!"

"I don't want to hear any more of this. Go back to your room. You're on lockdown."

"What?!"

"Do I need to repeat myself?"

"No, sir!"