Instantly, Willard's arm broke with a loud crack.
He clutched his arm and howled in pain. Grant, who stood at the side, was shocked at the turn of events. He did not expect the gentle-looking Donald to be so good at fighting.
“Mr. Campbell, please just let this slide. We have surveillance cameras here, and it won't be beneficial to you if you beat him too harshly,” he interjected.
Willard glared at Donald and hissed, “How dare you hit me! I'm going to kill you today!”
“Really? I do want to see how you're going to do that,” said Donald scornfully.
“If you have the guts, wait while I make a call!”
“Sure. I'll wait for you to call someone over.”
Donald then turned around and told Jennifer, “Go home first. I'm going to teach him a lesson.”
Knitting her brows, Jennifer said, “Darling, it's not worth it to waste your energy on him. Just leave him alone.”
“I can't. I put up with him for too long. Don't worry. I'll return to the company right after I deal with him.”
“All right. Take care, then.”
Jennifer knew of Donald's capabilities, so she had nothing to worry about when it came to dealing with someone like Willard.
After Jennifer left, Donald plopped down on the couch and crossed his legs as he watched Willard make the call.
Upon noticing Donald's demeanor, Grant felt his heart sink.
His greatest worry had come true—Willard was messing with someone more powerful than himself.
While Grant had already figured out what was going on, Willard was totally oblivious.
The latter was too engrossed in his hatred against Donald that he did not bother to consider why the latter was so emboldened.
At that moment, a man's lazy voice answered his call, “Hello?”
“Mr. Zielinski? This is Willard. Do you remember me?”
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