When the Santana driver and his friends saw Forrest's Porsche, they were stunned. How f*cking rich were the couple for them to drive a Bentley and a Porsche?
"Sir, you're so rich..." The driver's lips twitched shyly.
"This is my assistant's business card. You can directly contact him regarding the car accident.”
Forrest tossed a business card into the driver's hand and warned, "Don't you dare play any tricks."
The driver looked down at the business card in his hand, which read 'General Manager of Levine Law Firm, Christian Cave'.
The fact that Forrest could get the business card of a general manager from a law firm proved that his identity must be extraordinary. After taking a glimpse at Forrest's cold expression and tall figure, the driver subconsciously felt afraid. "Well ... it's just our private matter. There's no need to get a lawyer to settle this."
"But it hit me that talking sense to people like you won’t work."
Then, Forrest turned around and got in the car. After starting the car, he saw the young hooligans still lying on the ground. The gear shift lever of his car was still in Park, but the moment he stepped on the accelerator to the fullest, the hooligans were so frightened that they quickly leaped to their feet.
Forrest rolled down the window and said indifferently, “It’s up to you whether you want to continue lying there. I'll run over a few people at most and compensate each of you with one million dollars. Is that enough?"
In the face of his stubborn behavior, the bunch of hooligans were at their wits’ end.
Forrest promptly turned the steering wheel and left the scene.
A few minutes later, he caught sight of a white phone on the passenger seat and frowned. He took out his phone and called his secretary. "There was a car accident involving a Bentley on Western Road half an hour ago. Have all the relevant videos of it taken down."
"President Lynch, were you in a car accident?" The secretary said in surprise," Hang on. You don't drive a Bentley.
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