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The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Fourteen
“I am aware of the fact that there is a need to endorse our indigenous companies otherwise, we won't progress at all.There is no need for us to keep relying on foreign products as you have said, why our home businesses, keep suffering and I must confess to you Mr. George since I was given the seat of the presidency of this country; my major achievement could be seen mostly in the business world because I believe that a strong economy leads to a powerful nation.I have not really put an eye on our political systems because honestly speaking, it is not easy at all. The amount of challenges I am getting from our economic system might be bigger than that of our political system.I think that I am not just the president sent to restructure our political system. I find more pleasure in trying to restructure our economy” President Harrison finally spoke about his love to restructure the country's economy.Truly, he wasn't strong politically because he failed to restructure and strengthen
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Fifteen
George has a better plan for himself and also for the people of his country. He hasn't informed anyone yet that he has an aspiration to be a great political leader in the country. He kept everything to himself, until the right time for him to strike.He has seen his new friendship with the current ruling politician of the country; President Harrison, as an opportunity for him to leave a political shadow behind until he was ready to fully participate in politics.Meanwhile, in the midst of all this, George's enemies were not willing to stop their campaign against him. Infact as all events progress, his enemies are growing stronger and stronger by the day. They have been devising all means in order to defeat him.But who knows what would happen next? Will George give in to their fight, or will the table be turned around by George?At this point, even though George seems to be winning, some of his enemies don't see it that way. They only see him as someone who has the upper hand over the
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Sixteen
The discuss in Mr. Joseph's rich lodging suite hung overwhelming, thick with the fragrance of costly cigars and hidden ill will. Over from him, a man named Armstrong, his confront clouded by the shadows cast by a low-hanging light, tuned in eagerness. Mr. Joseph, his once strong outline presently stooped with age and stifled wrath, talked in a moo snarl."Armstrong," he scratched, his voice roughened by a long time of yelling orders, "that vomited George Andrews. He considers he can fair waltz back in and take everything from us!"Armstrong, a man whose nearness commanded consideration in spite of the haziness, inclined back in his rich chair. A indicate of a grin played on his lips, scarcely obvious. "And has he, Mr. Joseph?""Not however," Mr. Joseph conceded, his clench hands clenching around the arms of his chair. "But the daringness! After everything he's done to the Andrews family, to think he can return with his head held high…""Open conclusion may be a flighty thing, Mr. Josep
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Seventeen
A long hush extended between them. At long last, Mr. Joseph talked, his voice dry. "Take off. Presently. And do not tell anybody you were here."The youthful man gestured, alleviation washing over his confront. He stood up, tucked the envelope back into his sack, and rushed towards the entryway. Mr. Joseph observed him go, a wave of clashing feelings whirling inside him.As the entryway closed delicately behind him, Mr. Joseph sank back into his chair. The long, run once clear in his vindictive interest of George Andrews, was presently covered in a thick mist. He held the key to unraveling a tremendous scheme, a unsafe bet with possibly annihilating results. The taste of the brandy in his mouth turned sharp. He had ended up a player in a diversion he didn't get it, and the prize at stake was distant more prominent than he might have ever envisioned.Rest avoided him that night. He hurled and turned, the implicating envelope a steady nearness on his bedside table. The weight of it felt
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Eighteen
The night that started with disillusionment had taken a sharp turn towards interest. The security faculty knew they couldn't take off things to chance. They required to induce closer, to get it the energetic between George and Armstrong, and to reveal the truth behind their apparently incomprehensible association.As the night wore on, they concocted a unsafe arrange. One of them would remain behind, keeping observe on the lodging entrance and trusting to capture a see of George taking off. The other, beneath the cover of obscurity, would endeavor to take after George and Armstrong, cautiously following them to see where they went and what privileged insights they might uncover.The dangers were tall.Profound underneath the bustling heart of Armstrong's rich inn, a world concealed unfurled. In a sterile, austere room enlightened by unforgiving overhead lights, Armstrong clustered with his inward circle, a gather of men and ladies whose faces held the mask-like composure of proficient s
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Nineteen
Benefactors crouched in booths, their faces clouded by shadows and cigarette smoke. A moo mumble of discussion murmured through the room, punctuated by the intermittent clinking of glasses.George checked the room, his eyes looking for his contact. He spotted a man slouched over a corner booth, a fedora pulled moo over his forehead. As George drawn closer, the man looked up, uncovering a weathered confront confused with wrinkles that talked of a life went through chasing stories within the underbelly of the city."Mr. Davies?" George inquired, his voice scarcely a whisper.The man gestured, his eyes sharp and evaluating. "That's me. You must be George Andrews."George took a situate over from him, his stomach churning with a blend of dread and trust. "I require your offer assistance," he blurted out.Davies raised an eyebrow. "That's what this put is for," he said, his voice raspy. "But offer assistance doesn't come cheap. What kind of information are you trying to?" findGeorge falter
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Twenty
He was a needed man, his confront carved into the collective memory as a outlaw and an assistant.His as it were trust lay with Sarah. He had a burner phone, a antique from a bygone period some time recently the computerized chain. A single, enigmatic message had been sent the day after Sophia's capture, sketching out his circumstance and a frantic supplication for offer assistance.The quiet since at that point was stunning. Did Sarah get it? Was she able to disentangle his supplication through the coded dialect? The obscure chewed at him, but indeed a bit of trust was superior than the choking lose hope he felt caught inside.Abruptly, a scarcely capable of being heard tap resounded through the room. Michael solidified, his heart pounding in his chest. Was it the entryway? Had they come for him? He strained to tune in, his faculties on tall alarm.At that point, a delicate, metallic scratching clamor. It came from behind a portray hanging on the divider, a watchfully masked discuss v
The Dangerous Wealthy Punk Chapter One Hundred And Twenty One
He gulped, the taste of bile rising in his throat."Yes, sir," he scratched, his voice scarcely capable of being heard.A horrid grin played on Mr. Jones' lips. "Fabulous." He stood up, smoothing out his suit. "Consider this "...a test, Kelvin. Pass it, and maybe Mr. Armstrong will see fit to amplify his… liberality. Fall flat on it, and the results will be desperate."With that chilling caution, Mr. Jones cleared out the cross examination room, leaving Kelvin alone with the resound of his words and the pulverizing weight of his circumstance. The brief flash of trust that Mr. Jones' entry had touched off had been quenched, supplanted by a significant sense of lost hope.The days that took after were an obscure of disarray and trepidation. Kelvin was exchanged from the sterile cross examination room to a swarmed, boisterous holding cell. The discussion was thick with the stench of unwashed bodies and stale sweat. The other prisoners, a solidified bunch with savage gazes, observed him wi
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