Stanley pleaded incoherently, trying to awaken even a little bit of "friendship" or "business obligations" in Thorne.
Thorne didn't answer immediately. He slowly poured himself a glass of premium whiskey, the ice making a crisp, cold sound as it hit the crystal glass. He took a sip, his gaze like a scalpel, slicing through Stanley's remaining dignity and hope.
"Help you?" Thorne's voice was eerily calm, like the ice in a deep pool. "Stanley, you messed up everything. And you messed up earth-shatteringly."
"It wasn't me who messed it up! It was him! That madman Reeves!" Stanley waved his arms excitedly. "He has the National Guard! Who would have thought he would..."
"Shut up!" Thorne interrupted him abruptly, his voice rising with unquestionable authority. "It's your stupidity and incompetence that brought about this catastrophe! The National Guard was mobilized, and it made headlines around the world! The FBI, the Department of Homeland Security... every department that can dig up your past is now staring at you like sharks smelling blood! Staring at anyone who has anything to do with you!"
He put down his glass and slowly took a step closer. His tall figure looked like the cold god of death to Stanley. Amidst the disgust, Thorne's eyes revealed a profound calculation of risk.
"Fifty million? The Blue Roof Project? That's not important anymore. Stanley, the most important thing right now is that you... are completely useless. On the contrary, as long as you're alive, you're a bomb ready to go off at any moment and blow me to pieces."
The glimmer of hope in Stanley's eyes was instantly extinguished by Thorne's words, replaced by endless fear and coldness. He understood Thorne's implication. "No... Thorne, we are partners! You can't..."
"We've never been 'partners,'" Thorne corrected coldly, not even bothering to maintain false politeness. "Cooperation requires both parties to have value. And now, you've only created endless trouble."
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