Nathan chuckled. “Six billion is rather costly, isn't it? I'm sure you can name a better price than that.”
Jonneth frowned. “You seem like a man of great power and influence, Mr. Cross. Tell you what, I'll knock off two hundred million from his debt. Think of it as a gesture to initiate a long and lasting friendship between us.”
Nathan shook his head. “It’s still too much.”
Jonneth’s smile faded. “I run a casino, Mr. Cross. We do not bargain. If you really are sincere in conducting this transaction, make me a serious offer and if I find it satisfactory, I'll let him leave with you.”
Nathan held out his right palm with all five fingers extended.
“Five billion?” Jonneth asked, nonplussed. “Thomas' debt has dragged on for quite some time. As you can imagine, the interest accrued is not a negligible sum.”
Nathan's smile did not falter. “Not five billion.”
“You can't possibly mean half a billion?” Jonneth shouted. “You're out of your mind. There's no way I'm letting him off the hook for that measly amount. If you're not going to make a sincere offer, then kindly get out of my office.”
“Tarkie!” Jonneth called, turning to his subordinate. “Show these gentlemen out.”
Tarkie was about to reach out to grab Nathan by the shoulder, but Colin was quicker.
Thud!
A heavy fist struck Tarkie on the cheek and sent a spray of blood onto the office floor.
The impact was so immense that Tarkie was sent flying backward before crumpling in a heap on the floor. A bloody crater took the place where his cheek used to be.
“How dare you lay a finger on my men on my turf!" Jonneth yelled. “Men! Take them!”
“Yes, Mr. Cross!”
The eight bodyguards started forward like a pack of wolves toward where Nathan and Colin stood.
Without even a shred of fear, Colin stepped forth to confront them head-on.
Thud! Crash! Pow!
One by one, they fell like flies under Colin's fists.
In a rage, Jonneth slammed a button on his desk to summon reinforcements.
At the same time, he pulled open a drawer and extracted the gun within.
Just as he was about to raise it, he found Nathan suddenly standing in front of him.
Before he could recover his shock sufficiently to take aim, Nathan slapped him across the face.
Smack!
Jonneth's formidable frame was sent flying backward from Nathan’s slap as if he was a ragdoll. He crashed into the statue of himself, his gun falling some distance away with a clatter.
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