The phone kept shrilling—
Ring-ring! Ring-ring!
Growing faster, sharper, more frantic.
Everyone in the office stiffened.
A call… actually came?
Could it be… that Matthew Powell had really pulled it off?
A tremor shot down Mr. Seehorn’s spine before he could stop it.
He snatched up the phone—
and exhaled in relief the moment he saw the caller ID.
“Hah… it’s Mr. Elliott from Elliott Group.”
He shot Matthew a mocking smirk.
“Know what he is to me? Ever heard of The Four Bonds of Brotherhood?
We carried guns together, sat in the same classroom, split profits, and even… heh… shared certain ‘evening adventures.’”
“We fought in the same damn foxhole. If there’s one man in this world who would NEVER cut ties with me—it’s Mr. Elliott.”
“Guarantee he’s calling to ask if I need manpower
