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Making 238

    Making 238


    82%


    Twelve dayster, on the eve of the CBD project bidding conference, in the luxurious living room of


    the Wyatt family’s mansion, James sat with Liam and David.


    “James, our three financial groups have already pooled together 7 billion,” Liam said, leaning back


    on the couch,pletely at case.


    “With Graham’s stock performance being mediocre and without the financial support of the Macy,


    Bates, and Jenson families, he stands no chance at the CBD bidding conference against


    us.”


    A confident grin appeared on James‘ face. “Graham won’t be able t us,” he dered.


    “We’re guaranteed to win this bidding!”


    secure more funds than


    David chuckled, “I can’t wait to see the look on Graham’s face when he loses to us at the


    conference.”


    “Hahaha…”


    Theirughter filled the room.


    “Bob, have someone pop open a bottle of champagne. We’re in high spirits today, so let’s celebrate


    in advance,” James said, turning to his butler Bob.


    Bob nodded and soon, a servant brought in champagne and sses.


    “Let’s toast to our imminent victory!” James said, raising his filled ss towards Liam and David.


    Liam and David, both beaming with joy, raised their sses. “Cheers!”


    Clink!


    Their sses clinked, and the trio drank heartily, theirughter echoing throughout the


    room.


    Meanwhile, at the Fields‘ manor.


    Graham, Gilmore, and Helene sat in their living room, apanied by a few top executives of the


    Horizon Group.


    “Tomorrow is the CBD project’s bidding conference. James and his group must be thinking


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    that without any financing channels, there’s no way the Field family can secure several billion


    dors, Graham began.


    Graham’s gaze was earnest, a fire burning brightly in his eyes. He addressed the several senior


    executives before him.


    “They’ve let their guard down, believing they have this in the bag. Tomorrow, at the bidding


    conference, we’ll deal them a heavy blow and make sure they crash and burn!”


    The executives‘ expressions mirrored Graham’s resolve, their eyes glearning with determination,


    reminiscent of warriors poised for battle, brimming with confidence.


    “Chairman is right! We have to defeat the Wyatt family!” one eximed.


    “We’ll undoubtedly win the bid for the CBD project!” another chimed in.


    “We will prevail!”


    Seeing the spirited morale of his executives, Graham nodded approvingly.


    He then turned to Gilmore, gratitude evident in his eyes, “Gilmore, without your and ire’s timely


    contribution of 6 billion dors, we wouldn’t have even stood a chance to bid for the CBD project.”


    Respectful nces were directed towards Gilmore from the executives.


    Gilmore, however, remained nonchnt, “Mr. Field, when you first granted me 10% of the


    company’s shares, I became a stakeholder in the Horizon Group.


    “Therefore, when thepany urgently needed funds for this bid, it was only right for me to


    contribute.


    “My hope is for ourpany to soar to greater heights and prosper even more.”


    Graham pped enthusiastically, “Well said, Vice President Gilmore! Let’s give him a round of


    apuse!”


    Helene and the executives, their faces alight with smiles, joined in the apuse.


    Caught off guard, Gilmore appeared a tad flustered.


    “Wait, what…?” he thought, slightly embarrassed. He hadn’t anticipated that a few courteous


    remarks would elicit such a response.


    The scene reminded him of those moments when a leader finishes a speech, and everyone


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    Gilmore understood why Graham and the senior executives held him in such high regard.


    His contribution of 6 billion dors had essentially rescued the Horizon Group’s bid, which was on


    the brink of failure.


    The continued bidding process owed a lot to Gilmore’s timely assistance.


    “Murdoch, bring out the wine! I want to drink to our bidding tomorrow, to bolster our spirits!” Graham


    called to his butler Murdoch.


    Murdoch nodded and soon had the servants bring out bottles of red wine.


    Graham, Gilmore, and everyone else each took a ss from the tray.


    “Here’s to our sessful bid tomorrow!” Graham raised his ss.


    Gilmore, Helene, and the others all raised their sses in unison, “To our sess!”


    Clink!


    They clinked their sses together and downed their drinks.


    But as Gilmore finished his wine, a sudden shift in his eyes indicated something had caught his


    attention.


    His God’s Eye seemed to have perceived something, causing his demeanor to change instantly.


    cing his ss back on the servant’s tray, he said.


    “Mr. Field, Helene, I need to step out for a bit. Please continue.”


    Helene called out, “Gilmore, where are you going?”


    He paused and gave her a slight smile, “There’s something crucial I need to attend to. A matter that


    couldpletely topple the Wyatt family and rid the Field family of threat.”


    With that, Gilmore quickly exited the vi.


    Helene was left with a face full of questions.


    Topple the Wyatt family?


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    A matter that would rid the Field family of any future threats?


    Just what was going on?


    But Gilmore had already left. Even if she wanted to ask, there was no one to answer her queries.


    Simrly, Graham and the senior executives of thepany were filled with doubts.


    They wondered what Gilmore was up to.


    In the manor of the Wyatt family.


    James, along with two of his associates, Liam and David, had finished their drinks. They bid


    farewell to James and prepared to leave.


    James escorted them to their cars.


    He watched as the cars carrying Liam and David, nked by bodyguards, departed from the Wyatt


    family’s manor.


    At that moment, Bob approached James with a serious expression and whispered into his ear, “Mr.


    Wyatt, Maxwell was released from prison today.”


    A shadow fell across James‘ previously calm face, and a sharp glint shed in his eyes.


    “I can’t believe he’s already spent ten years behind bars,” he said.


    “Mr. Wyatt, Maxwell still has evidence of your past deeds. What should we do?” Bob inquired, his


    gaze fixed on James.


    James responded, “His gravely ill son remains under our control. We’ll force him to hand over the


    evidence. If he doesn’t, he’ll never see his son again.”


    “Understood, Mr. Wyatt,” Bob acknowledged and swiftly departed.


    A fierce glint appeared in James‘ eyes as he murmured to himself, “Maxwell, I hope you’re not


    foolish enough to confront me. Otherwise, I’ll ensure your end is far from pleasant.*


    C
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