The Dangerous Wealthy Punk

Chapter One Hundred And Seventy Eight

Still, a little bit of doubt gnawed at the margins of George's newly determined determination. Even when the obligations were paid off, a feeling of justice was still unsatisfied. There was a simmering sense that his uncles, now free men again, still had the capacity to cause problems. Yes, they were reprimanded, but leopards don't completely alter their spots. George still had a secret weapon in his sleeve—an ace that would eventually bring them to ruin. They may pretend to be sorry or show signs of humility, but he would see right through them. He was aware that their desire for riches and power persisted, like a ticking time bomb ready to go off.

Meanwhile, another type of tension simmered in the air behind the antiseptic walls of the military jail. Seated opposite his imprisoned son Armstrong was a haggard man with a haunting expression in his eyes: Mr. Daniel Armstrong's father. The older Armstrong's eyes filled with tears, and the harsh fluorescent light glinted off them. Shame