Chapter 211:
After a brief hesitation, he sent the message.
Rhysâ disregard for Aaronâs attempt to discuss business was palpable.
The tension in the room grew thick.
Receiving no immediate response from Harlee, Rhys casually flicked through his phone, his expression calculating.
âTrying to challenge me, huh?â
His penetrating gaze caused Aaron to shift uncomfortably.
Even though Rhys did not hold sway in Claelia, antagonizing him was not a wise option.
Business demanded strategies and ruthlessness.
The best way to deal with seasoned businessmen like Rhys was to tread carefully without crossing the line.
Clearly, Aaronâs bold suggestion to increase prices indicated he had prepared well for any contingencies.
Rhys seldom intervened personally, and this occasion was an exception.
His traveling to Claelia for this business dealing had filled Aaron with self-assurance.
With a faint smile, Aaron said, âMr. Green, letâs be straightforward. This is my final offer. If you find my suggestion unacceptable, feel free to seek other business partners.â Having declared his stance, Aaron rose to leave.
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Rhys handed his phone to Hamilton and advanced with deliberate steps, his face betraying no emotion.
Hamilton sensed the brewing storm within Rhys.
He mentally mourned for Aaron, having predicted the impending outcome.
As expected, in the blink of an eye, Aaron was forcefully pressed down onto the table. The sound of the impact echoed loudly. Rhys, with one hand, pressed Aaronâs face against the table and splashed whiskey onto his forehead wound, causing a searing pain that knocked Aaron unconscious.
Yet, just as Aaronâs eyes shut, a sharp slap startled him awake. Rhysâ face gave away nothing, his eyes cold and dark like an endless pit.
He looked at Aaron with a mocking smile.
âWhimsical price hiking? Such audacity.
Do you even grasp the consequences?â
Rhys then instructed Hamilton, âRemove him from the picture and elevate his deputy. I want direct control over this revenue stream.â
âUnderstood,â Hamilton responded, promptly making a call to a trusted contact. Soon after, someone arrived to manage the situation.
Stepping out of the private room, Rhys took out his phone, opening Harleeâs chat window. She hadnât replied yet.
His expression subtly shifted.
Was she simply busy, or was she avoiding responding? Rhysâ fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing and erasing repeatedly, caught in a loop of indecision for nearly half an hour, never straying from the message screen. Still, there was no response from Harlee.
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