Chapter 1322
Chapter 1322:
Rupert didn’t look convinced. Instead, he scoffed. “If you truly know me, then you should know there’s nothing I don’t know p>
It wasn’t arrogance. It was simply true—his intelligence network was formidable, capable of digging up even the most tightly guarded secrets.
Moshe’s expression tightened, words failing him. His grip on the table intensified until his knuckles turned pale.
Annabel noticed, but she stayed silent.
Across from her, Moshe cleared his throat again. “Then what do you want p>
“What reason do I have to agree to your proposal?” Rupert’s voice remained calm, incisive. “I could arrest you and hand you over to the authorities. That would be a convenient solution for me, wouldn’t it? I see no point in wasting time on a futile ‘cooperation’ with you p>
Fury flashed across Moshe’s face. He straightened, forcing an imposing posture as though sheer presence could pressure Rupert into submission.
“Rupert, don’t overstep.” Moshe’s gaze hardened. “These men are under my command. Whether you walk out of here alive is entirely up to me p>
Rupert simply raised an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me p>
Moshe’s eyes drifted to Annabel, hunting for a crack—any fear, any hesitation he could exploit.
But Annabel met his stare with steady composure, as if the tension in the room had nothing to do with her at all.
Moshe drew a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “Wouldn’t it benefit both of us if we stayed out of each other’s business p>
Rupert’s lips curled into a faint smile as he waited for Moshe to continue.
“What do you want?” Moshe asked again, clearly unwilling to gamble. He couldn’t afford to be reckless now.
Yet beneath his seemingly composed facade, a flicker of unease betrayed him. His calm was forced—fragile.
New chapters now on
After a long silence, Rupert finally spoke. “If you want me to release Omar, then you’ll have to give me something in return p>
“What do you want?” Moshe repeated, jaw tight.
Inside the villa, Omar lowered his head and stared at the mark etched into his wrist. As if it fascinated him, he traced it over and over with his fingertips.
Moshe stood before Omar, looking nothing like the man who had confronted Rupert earlier. His gaze stayed lowered, but his body trembled slightly, the fear obvious in the way he held himself.
A moment later, Omar lifted his head and asked in a deep voice, “Did you give it to him p>
Moshe shook like a leaf. “Young master, all I wanted was to save you p>
He didn’t get to finish.
Omar kicked him.
Moshe slammed into the coffee table. It clearly hurt, but he didn’t dare make a sound.
“I don’t need you to save me, you idiot,” Omar spat, contempt dripping from every word. And yet, as he spoke, an unsettling smile curved his lips—one that made the air feel colder.