The crumpled bank note in my hand felt strangely familiar. I couldn't help but pause for a moment. I opened my palm and carefully touched the note.
Was it a coincidence?
The texture of the banknote felt the same as Jordan's painting.
Hendrix then said, "Tell me what's on your mind."
Instead of answering him, I reached out and touched the oil painting again to make sure that I was right. I then turned around and asked, "Are you telling me that the paper used for this oil painting is actually the same paper used in making banknotes?"
Anyone who studied law knew that banknotes were strictly controlled from design to printing. No matter how well-respected the person was, they had no right to keep the raw materials without express permission.
I whispered, "This must be a coincidence. There are so many different types of paper out there in the world. I suppose they'd feel pretty similar to others."
Hendrix smiled. "There are only very few possibilities as to why. You're just making excuses for Jordan right now. Are you really willing to make peace with the Marshall family for my sake?"
"No." I went to sit down. I placed the bank note back on the table and added, "I don't want to cause any more trouble. I hope to complete our plan as soon as possible. I'm willing to do anything for the happiness and safety of our family, even if it means that I have to be selfish."
"I'm afraid that's practically impossible when our country is in this mess," Hendrix spoke calmly.
I understood his concerns. It wasn't easy to be in his position. What's more, the Roberts Group was the largest chain real estate brand in the country. After becoming the richest man in the country, Hendrix was included in the development of several other businesses and made numerous transactions. He couldn't have avoided it.
After a while, Aaron came back. He stood by the door with a phone in his hand. With a confident look on his face, he said, "They took the bait."
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