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Chapter 1026: Chapter 1026: Apologies Are Useless
Titan Tower.
A hundred-story skyscraper.
Julius Reed sat on the rooftop, feeling the piercing spring breeze against his face.
It’s often said that heights are chilly.
But he let the fierce wind whip his clothes into a loud flutter.
And yet he was unmoved.
Having long occupied high positions, he had grown accustomed to such cold winds.
Below.
Countless buildings were as tiny as ants.
The entirety of Gonzalez City seemed to be within his view.
At this moment.
Two sets of footsteps slowly approached.
"It’s quite cold up here!"
Leopold Fairchild took the elevator to the roof, instinctively tightening his clothes about him.
He saw a man sitting in the very center of the helipad.
"Is that... the boss?"
He squinted, sizing up the figure cautiously.
But all he could see was a dark silhouette.
"Indeed, that’s our boss,"
Terry Moore nodded, speaking expressionlessly.
They walked briskly, partly because the rooftop was truly cold.
On the other hand, Leopold was eager to catch a glimpse of today’s financier.
A business deal worth millions!
He used to be just a lowly paparazzo, living day to day by helping people dig into affairs and doing some tracking work.
Often caught and beaten up, he lived from hand to mouth.
But who would have thought that even a turtle could turn itself over.
Just last night, Otis Radcliffe found him and threw a hundred thousand yuan on the table.
He asked Leopold to write a press release and fabricate testimony overnight.
And today, his luck continued to soar!
A business deal worth millions unexpectedly came knocking at his door.
By the stairwell, hundreds of meters away from the helipad.
During this distance, Leopold had already planned out his future life.
With a few million, buy a house in Five-river Province, then start a small company.
With the remaining money, buy a Rolex and even pretend to be rich.
Thinking of this, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
"Something amusing, Mr. Fairchild?"
Terry Moore asked aloud.
"Nothing."
Leopold quickly tried to appear very serious, at least outwardly showing great regard for the cooperation at hand.
"Boss. The man has arrived,"
Terry Moore walked up to within three meters of the figure and stopped.
His demeanor was respectful.
"Boss, I am Leopold,"
Standing beside him, Leopold also halted and spoke softly.
"Come!"
Julius Reed sat on the ground and gently waved them over. 𝑛𝘰𝑣𝑝𝑢𝑏.𝘤𝑜𝘮
"Hey!"
Leopold ran over excitedly, stood in front of Julius Reed, and began, "Boss, who do you want to screw over?"
He smugly patted his chest, volunteering, "No matter who you want to screw, just leave it to me, and I guarantee they won’t be able to turn over a new leaf!"
Thinking of the imminent millions, Leopold already envisioned the tender models at the club waving to him, and himself, cigarette in mouth, hands in pockets, as if selecting concubines.
Through his dark sunglasses, pretending to glance at the Rolex on his wrist casually.
Then, amid the models’ shrieking, he would be surrounded by beauties.
Truly the life of a god.
"Screwing yourself over?"
Julius Reed slowly lifted his head.
"You! You! You!"
When Leopold saw that face, he instantly turned pale with fright!
Julius Reed!
CEO of Willson Group, Quella Radcliffe’s husband!
"You’re playing me..."
His mind raced with shock, and he tried to run.
But then, he stopped.
In front of him.
A jet-black dart box aimed right at his forehead.
Terry Moore took off his sunglasses and threw them on the ground.
Crushing them with a foot.
"You can try and see if your legs are faster, or if my dart box is,"
"You... you..."
Leopold panicked, completely at a loss.
"What, threatening us?"
Julius Reed slowly stood up from the ground, patting the dust from his buttocks.
He pulled out a cell phone and handed it to Leopold, "I know you’re good at this. Come on, dial the number, kill me!"
But how could Leopold dare to take it?
Atop the Titan Group building, he was being pointed at with a hidden-weapon box.
Would he dare to be presumptuous?
Moreover, the person opposite was the CEO of the Willson Group!
If Leopold Fairchild had known Julius Reed’s identity earlier, even if offered a lot of money, he wouldn’t have dared to take the job!
But at that time, Otis Radcliffe hadn’t told him Julius Reed’s identity.
Everything had become commonly known by the people of Gonzalez City only in the morning.
By then, it was too late to back down.
Thump!
Leopold Fairchild knelt on the ground, slowly raising both hands.
"Boss Reed, if you could kindly forgive my minor transgression, could you spare me?"
His voice was already trembling.
His face was ashen.
The Willson Group!
A massive entity.
Killing him would be all too easy.
Thinking of this, Leopold Fairchild filled with regret.
"I beg you, give me a chance to make amends! I promise... I promise to be a good person from now on, or I could help you reveal Otis Radcliffe’s schemes!"
Like grasping at straws, he hurriedly crawled to Julius Reed’s feet, pleading, "I’ll do anything you want! Please, give me a chance!"
Desperation, pain.
Incredibly nervous.
"What’s done is done. A healed wound is still different from one never received."
Julius Reed bent down, gently patting his cheek, "If apologies were of any use, in your death, I’ll arrange for someone to stand in front of your grave and apologize to you."
Thump!
Leopold Fairchild collapsed to the ground, his face ashen.
Despair...
"Come on, confess into the phone."
Julius Reed squatted down and started recording, "Maybe, I’ll give you a clean end."
Leopold Fairchild’s gaze was empty, offering no response.
Whoosh!
The hidden-weapon box in Terry Moore’s hand made a sound.
Leopold Fairchild’s body trembled, letting out a painfully mournful howl.
The dart pierced through his knee.
Blood gushed forth.
"Ah..."
"Confess."
Julius Reed squatted in front of him, smiling, "Otherwise, I’ll stick one hundred and eight darts into you."
Leopold Fairchild shivered, finally realizing it was irrevocable.
"I am Leopold Fairchild..."
His throat moved as he said, "Concerning the framing of Quella Radcliffe, it was..."
Before he could finish, Terry Moore, as if lifting a small chicken, picked him up!
Tossing him off the hundred-story rooftop!
"Ah..."
Accompanied by a scream, the black dot on the phone screen grew smaller and smaller.
Eventually, it vanished.
After saving the recording, Julius Reed dialed a number.
At that moment.
At a press conference on the first floor of Five-state International, the important eyewitness, Gonzalez City businessman Yosef Cook, was denouncing Quella Radcliffe.
The phone, however, suddenly rang.
"Hello, who is this?"
He gestured with slight apology.
"Later, I’ll send you a video. If you clarify the situation publicly, maybe I will let you live."
Beep, beep, beep...
After a brief message, the call was disconnected.
"Lunatic!"
Just as Yosef Cook finished cursing, he received a multimedia message on his phone.
He casually opened it.
Before his eyes appeared the familiar face of Leopold Fairchild!
Of course, he knew Leopold Fairchild!
The statements he made today were all crafted by Leopold Fairchild!
As he watched Leopold Fairchild, just like a little chicken, being hoisted and thrown off the rooftop.
Yosef Cook broke out in a cold sweat.
He was so scared, he nearly wet his pants.
The black silhouette got smaller and smaller.
And then, it disappeared.
Yosef Cook trembled, his lips pale.
"Boss Cook, what’s wrong..."
The reporters asked curiously.
Thump!
Yosef Cook knelt on the ground, barely managing to say, "Quella Radcliffe was framed... The person behind this is her brother, Otis Radcliffe..."
"Boss Cook, what are you talking about!"
A businessman beside him quickly interjected.
"I..."
Yosef Cook’s eyes rolled back, and he fainted.
