Chapter 89
963 Words
Inside the Nickson mansion, the family members gathered, their faces etched with worry.
"Mr. Nickson." Carl, the representative from the pharmaceutical company, sat smugly, his eyes fixed on Aiden Nickson, the CEO of Nickson Group. "Have you come to your senses? We're all from Philly here. I'm telling you this for your own good. Just give in. You don't want to anger this big shot from Crownspire."
Aiden shook his head, his expression resolute. "Carl, I've heard enough. I'm not selling my land. Not for any price."
Carl's eyes hardened. "Fine. Have it your way. But when he gets here, selling or not won't be your choice anymore."
Aiden's voice was low and steady. "I'd like to see how this 'big shot' can take my land."
"Don't come crying to me when you regret this," Carl spat, his face dark.
Just then, a servant entered the room. "Sir, there's someone here to see you."
Aiden's brow furrowed. "The vultures descend. Show him in."
A triumphant smirk spread across Carl's face. "Ah, Mr. Duncan must be here!"
But it wasn't Mr. Duncan who walked through the door. It was Ethan Lee.
Carl's smile faltered, replaced by a puzzled frown. "You're not Mr. Duncan. Who are you?"
Ethan ignored him, his gaze fixed on Aiden. Behind him, Cole stepped forward, presenting a business card.
Aiden's face softened as he glanced at the card. "Ah, a guest of Mayor Lewis. My apologies, Mr. Lee. We're in a bit of a predicament at the moment."
"No need for apologies, Mr. Nickson," Ethan replied politely. "I've heard about your troubles. I'm here to discuss a business proposition and perhaps offer a solution to your little problem."
Carl snorted. "Who is this punk? Big words for someone so young. Let me give you some free advice. Think before you speak, or you might find yourself in a world of hurt."
Ethan continued to ignore him, turning back to Aiden. "And who might this be?"
"An unwelcome guest," Aiden said dismissively.
Ethan smiled faintly. "Then he can leave." He nodded at Cole. "Show him out."
Cole then moved like a striking cobra, grabbing Tony by the neck before he could even react.
"What are you doing?" Carl squawked; his voice laced with panic. "Let me go! Do you know who I…"
His words were cut short as Cole tossed him aside like a rag doll.
With a thud, Carl crashed into the doorframe and collapsed to the ground, his nose bloodied and his face contorted in pain.
The Nickson family members exchanged amused glances. They'd all been itching to put Carl in his place.
Carl scrambled to his feet, clutching his face. "You... you'll regret this! When Mr. Duncan gets here, you're all finished!"
"Mr. Lee, this is a family matter," Aiden said, though his tone lacked conviction. "You shouldn't involve yourself."
Ethan waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry yourself, Mr. Nickson. This 'big shot' from Crownspire doesn't concern me in the slightest."
Carl, struggling to his feet, glared at them with venomous eyes. "You fools! You have no idea who Eamon Duncan is. All the power in Phil means nothing to him!"
Ethan chuckled. "Seems like he needs another lesson." He nodded at Cole.
Cole advanced, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Carl, his bravado gone, turned and fled.
Before he got far, he slammed headfirst into someone just outside the door.
"Mr. Duncan!" Carl wailed, relief flooding his features as he recognized his savior.
Eamon, taking in Tony's battered face, frowned. "What happened to you?"
Emboldened by his patron's arrival, Carl straightened up and recounted the events, pointing a trembling finger at Ethan. "Mr. Duncan, you have to help me. This punk attacked me. He..." Carl's voice cracked, and he started to sob.
Eamon turned his gaze to Ethan.
The young man might have been young, but his eyes held a wisdom and weariness that spoke of countless battles fought and won.
"Are you with the Nickson family?" Eamon asked.
"I am not." Ethan replied calmly.
"Then why strike Carl?" Eamon demanded; his voice laced with steel.
"He deserved it," Ethan said coldly. "And if you cause any trouble, you'll get the same treatment.
A roar erupted from behind Eamon as one of his bodyguards lunged at Ethan.
Ethan didn't budge, as Cole moved like a phantom, intercepting the attack with a thunderous clap.
Bang! Cole stood firm, while the bodyguard staggered back, his face contorted in surprise.
Eamon raised an eyebrow with surprise .
His bodyguards were highly trained, but they were so easily repelled by Cole. This guy was no ordinary man.
Eamon was not a fool. Starting a feud with a potentially powerful enemy over an insignificant lackey like Carl was bad for business.
He gestured to his men, and they dragged a whimpering Carl out of the house.
Turning back to Aiden, Eamon said, "I come bearing gifts, Mr. Nickson. Reconsider my offer. Sell me the land."
"We've already told you." One of the Nickson family members interjected. "That land is not for sale. Please leave."
Eamon smiled thinly. "Perhaps after you've seen my gift, you'll reconsider. I hear you're a connoisseur of art, Mr. Nickson. I have here a rare masterpiece–The Humble Deity by Colt Hoffman himself. It's yours, as a token of my goodwill."
With that, his men carried in a large oil painting.
Colt Hoffman was a world-renowned artist who had participated in the restoration of Notre Dame after the fire, creating several pieces for the cathedral, so his work had skyrocketed in value.
This particular piece, The Humble Deity, was estimated to be worth millions of dollars.
Aiden, his face grave, stood and examined the painting closely.
"I'm afraid that painting is a fake," Ethan said quietly.
- Writer
