Reaching an unoccupied restroom, Basil stopped. He pulled out a crumpled, cheap cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and took a few deep drags. "Jonathan, I've had the doctor check your prescription, and it's not from any legitimate hospital. Now, my mother's critical condition is due to your medication! Tell me, if I hand this prescription to the police, how many years in prison will you get?" Basil seemed confident of his victory. "Is it a disease-inducing drug from the black market?" Jonathan suddenly asked. Basil's eyes flickered with panic. How did Jonathan know? Only the black market would have disease-inducing drugs mixed with a small amount of pesticide and other substances, designed to trigger relapses of existing illnesses. Of course, Basil didn’t admit it and soon feigned calmness, shouting: "I don’t know what you’re talking about. My mother is seriously ill because of you. What do you think should be done?" Jonathan didn’t expect Basil to confess: "So, what do you prop

The Fairies Mountain in the night was filled with an eerie vibe, as if thousands of spirits were dancing chaotically. The car lights snaked through the mountain passes, with wild screams and the shrill sounds of racing cars blending together. "I am honored to introduce Mr. Tremblay. Everyone must know the Tremblays, one of the three major families of Crystal Cove, right? Mr. Tremblay is from the Tremblay family!" At the mountain's peak, Asher's subordinate was introducing him to the young masters of Elite Summit city. Upon learning that Asher was a descendant of the Tremblay family, one of the three major families in Crystal Cove, the young masters became overly cordial, fawning over Asher. Among them, a few pretty young women flirted with inviting glances, but Asher stood still, indifferent, as if he didn’t even notice them. Being a scion of a prestigious family controlling the economic veins of Crystal Cove, his gaze naturally became lofty. Women like these were beneath his not

The next morning, instead of taking Adela to work, Jonathan went to meet Basil at the arranged location. They were meeting at a tea house. When Jonathan arrived, Basil was already waiting inside. Today, Basil wore a gray jacket, his face full of anxiety, with a pile of cigarette butts in the ashtray in front of him. He looked haggard, panicky, and uneasy. Seeing Jonathan, Basil hastily snuffed out his cigarette and stood up, saying with confusion: "Sir, Mr. Wang." When they met again, Basil no longer called him 'that Wang guy.' Jonathan understood what had happened, sure that Mrs. Jones's illness had relapsed. He was somewhat shaken by this; Basil, despite being despicable, did care for his mother's health, showing some humanity. Of course, Jonathan had no sympathy. Pitiful people also have their despicable aspects; there are many like Basil, and Jonathan couldn't sympathize with them all. Jonathan sat down opposite Basil, speaking coldly: "What is it, why did you want to see

Half an hour later, Jonathan stepped out of the room. Basil and Adela, anxiously waiting, approached him. Adela asked: "How is she?” “She’s stable, you can go in now.” Jonathan replied, then sat down on an old sofa and lit a cigarette. Adela went to check on Mrs. Jones' condition, while Basil timidly approached Jonathan, his voice shaky: "Mr. Wang..." "Used all your tricks and now you’re scared of me?" Jonathan glanced up and sneered. Basil dared not say anything. "I told your mother, whether you agree to my request or not, I would still save her. So, your use of Adela to force my hand in treating her was unnecessary and only made me think less of you." Basil clenched his fists, whispering: "Mr. Wang, I didn’t want to do this, but I don’t want to go to jail!" Suddenly, Jonathan asked an offbeat question: "Which horse has a high chance of winning tonight?” “Number fifteen!” Basil blurted out, instantly regretting his words. “Placed a big bet, huh?” Jonathan wasn’t surprised.

Meanwhile, Jonathan approached Orla, indifferently saying: "If you need to see me, you could have called first. Why come all the way to the company?” “Are you afraid the company will find out about your jail time and force you to resign?” Orla laughed, watching Adela drive away, her gaze hard to decipher: “It seems we are not divorced yet, and you’re already happily moving on with your new romance. Isn’t it a bit too soon?” Jonathan did not reply, nor did he care about Orla's words. Finally, Jonathan got into Orla's car and they went to a nearby cafe: "A mocha latte, less sugar!" "A glass of water." Orla glanced at Jonathan, taking out the divorce papers from her red bag. "Jonathan, I've thought it over these past few days. Fine, we can divorce, but I can't hand over MIM Architecture to you. Here's a check for five million, consider it compensation." "You should be satisfied." When Orla said: 'You should be satisfied' her eyes were full of contempt. Jonathan burst into loud la