Chapter 923
A bodyguard snatched the necklace from Bruce’s grasp, and with long strides, marched towards him.
Panic-stricken, Bruce kept backing up until his back hit the display counter, trapped with nowhere else to go.
The bodyguard grabbed Bruce by the collar and raised his fist.
Seeing the impending punch, Bruce’s pupils dilated with fear, and he pleaded, “Mr. Sinclair, please, have mercy! I swear I’ll never
pick up anything of yours again... Agh!”
x 2 = 0 2 2 520
Before Bruce could finish, the bodyguard’s fist came crashing down, striking him squarely in the eye.
Stars exploded before Bruce’s eyes as dizziness overwhelmed him. He hardly had a chance to recover before a barrage of
punches and kicks followed.
Bruce’s screams echoed through the store.
The sales assistant, petrified, hid to the side, too scared to make a peep.
Shoppers passing by quickly steered clear of the commotion, too frightened to even rubberneck.
The black-clad bodyguards were clearly well-trained, not individuals to be trifled with. Nobody dared cross them.
Bruce, treated like a punching bag, took a beating before collapsing to the ground, still the bodyguards didn’t relent.
Curled up, Bruce shielded his head with his arms, looking like a kicked cur.
It wasn’t until he lay motionless, knocked out cold, that the bodyguards stopped their assault.
Turning away, a bodyguard handed the necklace to Lysander, “Mr. Sinclair, your property.”
Lysander, not wanting to touch something soiled by Bruce, didn’t reach out to take it. How could he want something that Bruce
had touched?
His piercing gaze turned to the sales assistant, “Melt it down!”
His chilling authority was not to be questioned. The assistant hurried over, took the necklace from the bodyguard, and tossed it
into the crucible.
The necklace, worth millions, melted into a pool, though the diamonds around the cloud-shaped pendant glowed red-hot,
retaining their shape.
Soon after, the store’s general manager arrived, upon hearing that Lysander’s necklace had been destroyed on the spot. Bowing
and scraping, he said, “Mr. Sinclair, the necklace was custom-made for fifty million. We’ll transfer the funds to the Sinclair
Group’s account immediately.”
Who would dare shortchange Lysander? People in the mall were too eager to butter him up to even think about it.
Taking small liberties could lead to great losses, a rule well understood by anyone who frequented the marketplace.
Especially when it came to Lysander, the kingpin of the commercial world, the one who held the power of life and death over the
entire business district.
Who would dare offend him?
“I’ll give you an account. Transfer it there,” Lysander commanded before leaving with his bodyguards.
“Yes, right away,” the general manager quickly agreed, following Lysander out to his car. After ensuring his departure, he
returned
to the mall.
By now, a crowd had gathered around the unconscious Bruce, murmuring and speculating.
‘Is this guy dead?”
“Look, there’s a lot of blood coming from his mouth. He’s probably a goner.”
Hearing the crowd, the general manager hastily instructed the staff, “Quick, call an ambulance and get him out of here.”
It was their turf; a death on the premises could ruin their business. If the ambulance took him away and he died at the hospital, it
wouldn’t be their problem.
The sales assistant, nodding frantically in fright, asked, “Manager, should we call the police?”
The general manager glared at the assistant and rebuked sharply, “Are you out of your mind? In such a situation, do you dare to
involve the police? Do you even want to stay in Starhaven?”
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