“Ronald, your granddad knows you've been wronged,” Old Mr. Malone understood Ronald's nature. “Starting today, Tobin is out of the company, and his 10% shares are transferred to you. If that doesn't cool you off, you can throw another punch, but keep it away from the press—”
Hiring a hitman was no small matter.
But Ronald wanted more.
“Grandpa, it's not about the material things for me. It's the thought that if he could go after me once, he could very well do it again.”
“How about this? I was planning on opening a branch in Safarina. Let Tobin handle it.”
“For three years. If he can establish the branch and show some results, he can come back to Imperial City.”
Tobin panicked, “Ronald, you damn want to kick me out?”
Three years!
In Safarina, a place where even birds wouldn’t bother to shit, how was he supposed to survive?
The old man was also reluctant.
But Ronald clearly wouldn’t let things slide, leaving him no choice but to nod, “Alright, do as you say.”
Tobin wanted to resist.
But Mrs. Malone held him back.
“Fine.”
With that, Tobin was sent off to Safarina that very night.
Before leaving, Ronald handed him a thick dossier: “Make it work in Safarina, or I can't guarantee your fiancée and your unborn child will make it through these three years.”
Nothing scared Tobin except the thought of losing his fiancée and child.
His eyes filled with rage, he bit back his curses, grinding his teeth, “Ronald, you better pray you don't cross paths with me again, or you'll see what I'll do to you!”
Ronald waved a hand, “Escort the young master to his flight.”
After Tobin’s departure, Mrs. Malone fell ill, not too severely, but enough to lay in bed for nearly a month, casting a gloom over the Malone family.
On the other side.
Having dealt with Tobin, Ronald found some time, bought lavish gifts, and went home with Kari.
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