Thorne didn't know how long he sat paralyzed on the ground.
Only when the only sounds in the entire conference room were his heavy breathing and the low hum of the air conditioner did he struggle to get up using his hands and feet.
Thorne didn't know how he dragged his legs, which felt like they were filled with lead, through the empty corridor and pressed the elevator button to the underground parking lot.
This so-called shareholders' meeting is a public execution.
Ribbs's cold and playful face, Alfred's silent standing, the shareholders' fawning approval... every scene pierced his already tattered dignity and hope.
The Thorne Empire, the fruit of his life's work, was just now being solemnly labeled "Libs Holdings" in front of him by that street thug from Chicago.
He, a legend in the New York real estate industry, has become a tragic symbol from today on, a bankrupt tycoon nailed to the pillar of shame.
Thorne fumbled for his keys, opened the car door and got in the driver's seat, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.
"At least... I'm still alive..." He muttered to himself, with an indescribable sense of relief, and even a twisted sense of relief, "That kid Libus... although cruel, he didn't take my life after all... He humiliated me and took away everything I had, but he didn't kill me... I'm still alive... As long as I'm alive..."
Thorne tried to convince himself with this thought.
He fumbled for the car key and inserted it into the ignition switch. Just as his fingertips were about to turn the key -
“Click.”
The car door was opened without warning, and three dark shadows rushed into the car in an instant.
Thorne's body suddenly stiffened and he turned his head in horror.
In the dim light from the dashboard, he could clearly see the faces of the three men. They were all incredibly burly, wearing identical dark suits. Two of them wore sunglasses, and the third had a faint scar at the corner of his mouth, adding a touch of ferocity to his demeanor.
Thorne's heart almost jumped out of his throat! A huge fear instantly overwhelmed him.
This is Thorn Group's Security Department—or rather, what used to be his Security Department—the most elite, ruthless, and core bodyguard team! They were once the claws he wielded against his enemies! Now...
"You...you guys..." Thorne's voice was shrill and distorted due to extreme fear. He realized that the car had been driven to the parking lot by his driver before the shareholders' meeting started, and these "bodyguards" had obviously been waiting here for a long time.
"Mr. Thorne," a man said, "Please stay still and fasten your seat belts."
The black Rolls-Royce Phantom started quietly and drove towards the dark exit passage of the parking lot.
…
In the cold abandoned warehouse, strong light hit Thorne's face as he was tied to a chair.
At this moment, the sound of footsteps sounded rhythmically in the empty space, coming from far away and getting closer.
Reeves looked down at him as if he were examining a piece of meat on a chopping block.
The strong light shifted slightly, and when Thorne saw Ribbs's cold and expressionless face under the strong light, he knew in his heart that he was finished.
His whole body was shaking like a sieve, and the extreme fear almost made him collapse.
Alfred stood silently half a step behind him like a perfect shadow.
"Old man," Reeves finally spoke, his voice low and even strangely calm, "It's time for us to settle the final account."
Reeves leaned down, leaning close to Thorne's ear, and spoke in a voice like a venomous snake: "Using the National Guard to wipe out Stanley was just the appetizer... Acquiring your shabby empire was the dessert before the main course... Now," his voice suddenly dropped to freezing point, "it's time to pay for Ao Guanhai's leg. Do you think that hiding in New York means you can treat my brother's bones as soft persimmons?"
The premonition that he knew he was doomed overwhelmed Thorne's remaining sanity. A rough roar like a broken bellows emanated from his throat, veins bulged on his neck, and he roared like a dying beast:
"Ugh, Ribs! You...kill me! Quick! Kill me! Kill me!!"
"Want to die here? That's too easy for you, old dog!" Ribs' voice was as cold as ice, abruptly interrupting Thorne's despair on the verge of death. "Do you know where my brother Ao Guanhai is lying now? I will smash your dog legs inch by inch in front of my brother!"
"Untie him and drag him up!" Ribs ordered Alfred.
Thorne's hands and feet were untied and roughly held up. Under Alfred's personal "escort", he was stuffed into an unmarked black van and covered with a thick black blindfold.
After an unknown amount of time, the car stopped.
Thorne was roughly dragged out of the car and his blindfold was ripped off. The glaring white light made him dizzy for a moment before he could see the scene clearly - a white corridor, the smell of disinfectant, and the faint sound of the electrocardiogram monitor.
It's the hospital ward floor!
The door of the ward was flung open, and Ribs's voice resounded loudly in the room: "Guanhai man! Look what I brought! I'll give you revenge today!"
He looked eagerly towards the bed, ready to admire his brother's happy expression when he saw his enemy.
However, the scene on the hospital bed made Ribs stunned for a moment.
The bed was dazzlingly clean, the snow-white sheets were flat and spotless, and the pillows were neatly placed at the head of the bed...a dead silence and emptiness.
The excitement and cruelty on Reeves' face froze instantly, replaced by an expression of disbelief and astonishment. He seemed to be frozen in the doorway, his broad frame stiffening for the first time.
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