Ashton, who was ready to spew out a load of nonsense, hesitated when he noticed how familiar Donald looked.
“Have we met somewhere before?”
A familiar sensation washed over Ashton when he saw Donald sitting calmly at the bar, sipping his drink. His heart slowly sank in dread.
F*ck. This feeling is becoming more and more familiar, and I don't like it one bit.
“So, you've forgotten about me so quickly, huh, lackey?”
The moment Ashton heard Donald call him a lackey, he shivered. Following that, his legs gave way, and he instantly fell to his knees.
All of his underlings were completely stunned.
What's going on here?
The scene they had envisioned of their boss teaching this brat a lesson didn't happen. Instead, their boss was the one who ended up kneeling before the brat.
“M-Mr. Campbell, how come you're here?”
Ashton was shaking uncontrollably.
He was consumed by unfathomable fear, something beyond his control or manipulation.
Donald looked at Ashton and chuckled lightly. “Can't I come to your place?”
“Of course, of course! You're certainly welcome here.” Swallowing hard, Ashton continued, “What I meant was, I didn't know you were here, otherwise I would have come out to greet you earlier. What are you all standing around for? Greet Mr. Campbell!”
One of his subordinates, Landon, said incredulously, “You're not joking, right? He's here to cause trouble.”
“It's an honor to have Mr. Campbell personally set foot on my turf! Are you going to greet him or not? If not, I'll make you a cripple right here and now!”
Though unclear about Donald's background and where he came from, Ashton's subordinates dared not go against his orders upon seeing how serious their boss was. Obediently, they greeted Donald.
Donald narrowed his eyes as he looked at the two speakers on the stage and said, “These two speakers are quite lousy. I don't like them.”
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