"The Jacobs family’s bid, for you."
Jas Grant’s eyes were sharp and cold.
He’s not good at saying thank you; for him, everything is just a matter of exchange.
However, Lynn Yates genuinely liked his character.
Straightforward and decisive, if money can solve it, it’s not a problem.
"Director Grant."
Quentin Hale hurried backstage, looking slightly anxious.
Seeing this, Lynn Yates sensibly walked away, leaving so space.
Once she stepped aside, Quentin lowered his voice.
"We found out, the owner of the van was hired by Matthew Sullivan, and also the trending search was arranged by a reporter he approached."
Upon hearing this, Jas Grant’s lips curled into a cruel smile: "Tired of living, huh?"
With just a sentence, a chill spread along Quentin’s spine.
Watching their boss’s briskly retreating back, even as he walked away, one could feel that nacing aura.
Grant Family.
Evelyn Clayton’s trending topic was rapidly heating up.
Even though Jas Grant exerted his efforts to cool it down, he couldn’t stop a million mouths.
Matthew Sullivan lounged leisurely on the sofa, gleefully watching the news about Evelyn Clayton on TV.
He took out his phone and dialed a number.
"Hey, hurry up, this level of attention isn’t even enough as a morsel! Make a big deal out of it, write more articles, completely ruin Evelyn Clayton’s reputation! I want her to never recover!"
As he spoke, an uncontrollable excitent shimred in Matthew’s eyes.
"Director Sullivan, it’s really tricky, you know, Jas Grant is already working to reduce the trending and suppressing the news! The major dia companies with high exposure have been singled out, and if you truly provoke the Grant Family, it won’t end well."
"Shut up!"
His words hit a sore spot for Matthew Sullivan.
He roared, his face twisted: "Useless! Can’t even handle this small matter, what’s the point of having you!"
"Knock, knock"
"Who’s there!"
The door suddenly echoed with a knock.
Matthew Sullivan hung up the phone and irritably frowned as he went to open the door.
As soon as the door opened, everything went black.
Matthew Sullivan was bagged and struggled desperately.
"Who are you all! Let go!"
In terror, Matthew kicked and punched, only feeling himself being tied up and pushed forward forcefully.
The group tied him up in a car, unceremoniously driving him away.
Soon, the car stopped halfway up a mountain.
Matthew Sullivan was pushed and shoved out of the car.
Realizing his dire situation, fear overwheld his mind.
Matthew Sullivan shivered and pleaded for his life.
"Who–who are you! What do you want!"
As soon as he finished speaking, light suddenly filled his eyes, as the bag was removed.
A blinding light shot at him, causing Matthew to squint hard.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw a man leaning against a luxury car.
The man in a white shirt and black trousers leant casually against the car, with a cigarette half hanging from his lips.
Despite his arrogant and uninhibited appearance, he exuded a suffocatingly strong sense of oppression.
"Jas Grant?!"
In an instant, Matthew Sullivan felt as if confronted by a fierce enemy, breaking out in a cold sweat.
Jas Grant’s eyes suddenly filled with a bloodthirsty glint, raising his ink-black eyes to stare directly at him.
The cigarette butt fell to the ground, sparking.
"Do you like racing?"
His voice emitted a deep, eerie sound, making people shudder.
Matthew Sullivan realized sothing, hastily shook his head in panic: "No! It’s not like that, it’s a misunderstanding, a misunderstanding!"
He didn’t listen to what Matthew was saying, his cold and murderous eyes gave a signal.
His n imdiately understood, stepping forward to tightly bind Matthew’s hands and feet with ropes.
"No, don’t! Let go! What do you want to do!"
In terror, Matthew fiercely struggled, only to be shoved directly into a race car.
Reviews
All reviews (0)