"Of course I don’t want that," Lillian replied, her cold smile carrying a deeper meaning.
"Then…"
Harry's eyes lit up with obvious greed as he stared at her. He was certain—so long as he had leverage, this ten million would land in his hands.
Without saying a word, Lillian clapped twice. Within seconds, several burly bouncers flooded into the private room like a tide. Without hesitation, they started beating Harry down.
"Ms. Doyle, you—" Harry didn’t even get the full sentence out before he hit the floor, pain crashing over him like waves. Crying and begging, he howled, "Agh! Please, stop! Stop hitting me! Keep the money, I don’t want it anymore! I swear I won’t ever show up in front of you again, Ms. Doyle…"
Leading the charge was the bar owner himself—a rugged, intimidat
