He scrambled to look up, only to find an incomprehensibly handsome young man staring down at him with cold detachment.
"Disappear from Aethelburg within twenty-four hours, and that money is yours."
"If you're still here by this time tomorrow, I'll gift you a box. A Cinerary Casket."
When he said "Cinerary Casket," a dark thrill flashed in the man's eyes, as if he were desperately hoping Luka would choose the latter.
That way, he could legitimately wipe Luka off the face of the earth.
Terrified by the sheer murderous pressure rolling off the man, Luka shuddered violently but still managed to stammer out, "Who... who are you?"
The stunning man in the bespoke suit looked barely twenty years old—how was his presence so utterly terrifying?
Julian looked at Luka exactly the way one looks at a cockroach.
If his wife hadn't strictly forbidden him from leaving a body count, Luka would have been six feet under over a decade ago.
"Two million. Are you getting the hell out, or not?"
Two million dollars used to be chump change to Luka.
But after the bankruptcy, everything he owned had been frozen.
The few thousand he had stashed in a safe was almost completely gone.
So for him right now, taking this money and moving to some cheap, middle-of-nowhere town meant he could live like a king for a while.
But then he thought—if Maeve wasn't his daughter, he had every legal right to take back the houses and the cash she had extorted from him.
Next to two hundred million, two million was absolute garbage. He had to fight for the massive payout.
Luka glared defiantly at the man. "Just clear one thing up for me, and I'll leave right this second."
Seeing Julian staring blankly, Luka couldn't hold back. "Does Maeve have any blood relation to me whatsoever?"
His instincts screamed that this man held all the answers.
Julian cut him down with two cold, brutal words: "Absolutely not."
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