Chapter 122: Chapter 122

Chapter 122:

At the hospital, Shipley’s sidekicks exaggerated the day’s incidents and informed Maurice of Ritchie’s reappearance. Only then did Maurice grasp that Shipley had been angered into spitting blood by his eldest son and a mysterious woman. Worse, Shipley had lost a hundred million.

“Unbelievable!” Maurice snapped.

Maurice’s face was as dark as a brewing tempest. While Maurice had always been cooing and toadying to Luisa, his sharpness was unmistakable.

After all, he had cleverly amassed a large fortune from Ritchie’s mother and then successfully married Luisa, a woman who hailed from an influential family.

Maurice had confidently permitted his son to revel at the Tartarus Club, assured by his resources that he could safeguard Shipley no matter what. Yet, he hadn’t expected Shipley to have been completely humiliated today. If word got out, how could Shipley ever hope to save face among Baythorn’s elite circles? Even he might be mocked because of this.

He was resolute in not letting this happen.

“Who is that woman? What’s her background?” Maurice’s voice sliced through the air, cold and sharp, making Shipley’s sidekick recoil.

“I… I’m not certain. The staff at the Tartarus Club might have clues…

As for that woman, she was last seen in Ritchie’s company,” the sidekick stammered, his voice laced with caution.

Maurice’s eyebrows knotted fiercely, as though they could trap any lie with an unbreakable hold.

“That ungrateful son dares to show his face?” he hissed.

The sidekick, swallowing hard, nodded in a timid, uncertain way.

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Turning his gaze to Shipley, who lay pallid and fragile on the hospital bed, Maurice felt his rage boil over. While the mysterious woman could possibly elude him, he was dead set on making Ritchie pay a harsh and unforgiving price.

He refused to let anyone question his rule.

Maurice swiveled around and rang up the Tartarus Club, directing them to detain Ritchie.

He intended to handle Ritchie first and then track down that impulsive woman.

But the club’s response was firm.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Diaz, but the Tartarus Club does not reveal the details of its guests. Perhaps you might consider employing a private investigator. Moreover, the billion from your son’s club account has been transferred to Mr. Ritchie Diaz’s account, in line with the wager. It would be best for you to notify your son once he regains consciousness.” The manager cut off any retort and added, “And, Mr. Diaz, please hold your temper. Your son has engaged in a high-stakes gambling pact at our rooftop casino. Upon his discharge from the hospital, we’ll welcome him back to resume play.

Feel free to express your frustrations then.” With that, the manager ended the call and blocked Maurice’s number.

Upon hearing this, Maurice hurled his phone against the floor.

“Damn them! How dare they dismiss me like that? I will dismantle that club!”

Back at the Tartarus Club, the manager put down the phone and deferentially stepped aside.

“Hamilton, Maurice won’t take this lying down. What’s our next move?”

Hamilton rested his chin in his hand, pondering, and then answered, “Prioritize Miss Sanderson’s safety.

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