Chapter 2027


    Chapter 2027


    Naturally, the Skull Club had no problem working with Donald. Their feud was with his father several


    decades ago, not the son. Better yet, Donald loved raining money–he simply favored power more than


    wealth. If burning a hole through his wallet meant making friends in high ces, then he would go


    through with that without batting an eye.


    There was truth to his method. Had he been even a little more frugal, his entertainment business would


    have never flown this ligh. Who was the Skull Club to refuse his overgenerous offer of money?


    The Skull Club‘s assistance and his identity as Matthews Sr.‘s son allowed him to run to the Eastern


    Inds. There, he revealed who he was instead of lying low–to secure a haven. As long as he


    remained within the Inds, the police would be powerless to catch him.


    Noce shed a perfunctory smile. “You didn‘t help him?”


    Sunny set his cup on the table. “I helped Matthews Sr. because he‘s a greedy pig at worst. He was


    never a murderer. He never killed anyone for money in his entire life. But Donald‘s made of different


    stuff, I heard. He‘s a madman who escaped prison, at the very least. Letting him stay on my ind is


    akin to nting a ticking bomb next to my pillow.”


    There was a conspicuous, seconds–long pause. Sunny considered Noce thoughtfully.


    “And I refuse to permit your stay, either. I know who you are. Donald went to prison because of you.”


    Every media outlet in Yaramoor had reported Noce as the man who sent Donald to prison, so the


    former‘s role was never a secret. No one should be surprised that Sunny knew. “Why?” Noce asked,


    smiling. “Are you afraid of the storms that might happen?” Sunny deadpanned. “I‘m not afraid of


    storms. But it doesn‘t mean I’m a fan of chasing after them, either.”


    Noce fidgeted with his empty cup. “You and Fabio seem to be ying nice with one another in the


    inds, but it‘s all a farce. Still water belies dangers, doesn‘t it? Putting two kings in the samend is


    like storing gunpowder next to a furnace.” Sunny‘s eyelids flicked open, and he red at him.


    Noce met his gaze with an even keel. He was not going to lose to psychological warfare. A long


    silence passed. Sunny narrowed his eyes before letting out augh. “Not bad, Mr. Knowles. You knew


    all about the Inds‘ politics despite having only just arrived.”


    “Fabio Puzo had been scheming from his den in the southwestern penins. He had been


    manipting unions and business guilds, controlling ports and harbors. There is no way a man like that


    would let you live free, out of his surveince. He speaks of a desire for peace, Mr. Southern, but in the


    shadow, he acts in ordance with war. He rallies as much support from thend as he can, slowly


    gnawing away at your power to grow slowly. “You refused to grant Donald sanctuary back then


    because you already knew that the Skull Club had joined Fabio‘s alliance. Donald is not a guy you can


    trust to have by your side,” analyzed Noce.


    He yed around with his cup and broke out a smile. “If Donald manages to amass his powers again,


    and if he manages to gain the Orasian gangs‘ support, do you think he‘ll overlook that


    time you turned him away when he sought your help?” Sunny was a little perplexed. “I doubt he‘s


    capable of giving Fabio what he wants.” “Fabio‘s eyes are set on the political stage, Mr. Southern. Just


    because Donald‘s ame–duck right now doesn‘t mean he automatically lost his old political


    connections, does it?” All Donald had to do was introduce his powerful friends to Fabio, and the rest


    would fall into ce. Shared interests could make all kinds of bedfellows, after all.


    Sunny was quiet. Noce poured a new cup of tea for him. “Besides, after knowing who Cameron really


    is, I think you‘ll find permitting my stay a more favorable option.” Sunny gripped his cup tightly. His


    brows furrowed. “Are you threatening me?” “No,” said Noce, beckoning toward the refilled cup.


    “Donald is my only goal. I don‘t intend to trouble you and your family with coteral damage.” 1


    Sandy stood by the pier the next day with a shawl covering half of her face. Anxious, she was waiting


    for the aid Donald had promised her.


    A few momentster, an ocean liner moored sluggishly at the pier. Two palpably Orasian men


    emerged, their heads turning as though they were searching for someone. Sandy dragged her luggage


    behind her and approached the men immediately. “Did Donald Matthews send you?”


    The men exchanged nces.


    This belongs ? N?velDra/ma.Org.


    “Mrs. Pruitt?”


    “That‘s me,” she replied hastily, smiling and lifting her luggage. “Finally. You two came.”