After Betrayal - I Married a Handsome Tycoon-Chapter 131: Courting Death, I’ll Oblige

Under normal circumstances, Finn Fuller would have been so scared his legs would have given out.

But now, believing he had Connor Quinn’s secret in the palm of his hand, he let out a soft chuckle and said nonchalantly, "I’m at the office. What is it, Mr. Quinn?"

Connor Quinn said, "Wait there."

After dropping those two words, Connor Quinn hung up the phone.

The call disconnected. Connor Quinn went downstairs and left.

On the way to the airport, Connor Quinn made a call.

When the call connected, Connor’s voice was stern and cold. "Send some men to The Premier Pavilion."

The person on the other end asked, "How many?"

Connor Quinn replied, "Ten."

The person said, "Got it."

Three hours later, Connor Quinn arrived at The Premier Pavilion.

He glanced at the ten bodyguards who had been waiting for him at the entrance for some time. Without another word, he led them straight inside.

The two security guards at the door were dumbfounded.

They had noticed the ten bodyguards earlier and assumed some big shot was on the move. They never imagined they were here for The Premier Pavilion.

They might as well have been trying to stop a freight train; there was no way they could block the path.

Most of the company’s security guards were all for show, but the ten bodyguards Connor Quinn brought were seasoned fighters.

Forget the two of them; even if every guard at The Premier Pavilion was called out, they probably wouldn’t stand a chance against these ten men.

Connor Quinn took his men and rode the elevator straight to Finn Fuller’s office.

When Connor Quinn pushed the door open, Finn Fuller was putting on airs, assigning work to his subordinates.

The moment he saw Connor Quinn, Finn Fuller’s pupils contracted. A belated but visceral fear spread across his face.

Seeing this, the subordinate reporting to him got the message loud and clear. Realizing the visitor had ill intentions, he whispered, "Director Fuller, perhaps I should come back later to give my report."

Finn Fuller sat in his chair, his entire body tense.

It was a fear born of pure muscle memory.

"Get out."

Finn Fuller barked, the word seemingly forced through his clenched teeth.

Hearing this, the subordinate hastily gathered his files and left.

Before leaving, he didn’t forget to flash a strained smile at Connor Quinn.

Once only the two of them and the ten bodyguards remained, Finn Fuller’s hand on the desk clenched into a fist. After a long moment, suppressing the rage and fear in his heart, he feigned composure and began, "Mr. Quinn..."

Connor Quinn’s voice was icy. "Trash it."

At Connor Quinn’s command, the ten bodyguards went to work.

Seeing this, Finn Fuller shot to his feet, wanting to intervene, but his legs felt rooted to the spot. He couldn’t move an inch.

Listening to the CRASHING and SMASHING inside his office and seeing the curious expressions of the people below, Finn Fuller clenched his fists at his sides. It was like he was back in time, more than a decade ago.

Back then, it was the same. In front of Connor Quinn, he was no better than a dog.

They had become Kain Alden’s disciples one after the other, not even a week apart, but Kain Alden had always favored Connor Quinn.

Thinking of this, Finn Fuller finally snapped. "Connor Quinn, don’t you think you’re going a little too far?"

When Connor Quinn ignored him, Finn continued, "I always wondered why you suddenly left back then—why you suddenly had so many competitions. Then, a couple of days ago, I learned you’ve settled down in Everwood County. You and our little junior sister are inseparable. Connor Quinn, does she know..."

Before Finn Fuller could finish, Connor Quinn strode forward, seized him by the back of the neck, and slammed him onto the desk.

Connor Quinn’s move was so fast and vicious that Finn Fuller had no time to react.

By the time he processed what had happened, he was already pinned to the desk, his face contorted from the pressure.

"Connor Quinn, you fucking..."

Finn Fuller was cut off mid-sentence as the hand on his neck tightened, constricting his carotid artery. A wave of suffocation washed over him.

Then, Connor Quinn leaned in close, his eyes chillingly dark and his voice as cold as ice. "Finn Fuller, what were you trying to say?"

Finn Fuller’s face turned beet red as he struggled, his hands pushing against the desk.

Connor Quinn said, "If you want to die, you can just say so."

Finn Fuller stared back at Connor Quinn, his eyes turning bloodshot.

Connor Quinn was unfazed, his expression indifferent. He looked at Finn as if he were a stray dog. "Do you know why I couldn’t be bothered to deal with you all these years? Because I was afraid of dirtying my hands. But if you’re so determined to die, I don’t mind granting your wish."

As he spoke, the pressure from his hand increased bit by bit.

Just as it seemed Finn Fuller was about to be choked to death, the office door was suddenly pushed open from the outside. A man in his forties, walking briskly, entered.

The man was about five foot seven, on the chubby side, and had a wide smile on his face that made his eyes narrow into slits.

"Mr. Quinn, Mr. Quinn! I wasn’t aware you were gracing us with your presence. Please forgive my poor welcome."

As he spoke, the man walked over and reached out to shake Connor Quinn’s hand.

The very hand that was still gripping the back of Finn Fuller’s neck.

Connor Quinn shot him a sideways glance but showed no sign of letting go.

The man kept smiling. "Mr. Quinn, could we have a word in private?"

A few minutes later, the man saw Connor Quinn off with a smile plastered on his face. The moment Connor was gone, he turned and slapped Finn Fuller across the cheek, his smile vanishing, replaced by pure anger. "What the hell were you thinking, provoking him?"

Finn Fuller held his breath, not daring to make a sound.

The man continued, "Connor Quinn is a mad dog. Even Kain Alden couldn’t control him back in the day. Did you really think you could control him just because you know some trivial little secret of his? If you piss him off, he’ll just have you killed on the sly."

Rage burned within Finn Fuller, mingled with terror.

Meanwhile, after leaving The Premier Pavilion, Connor Quinn dismissed the bodyguards and planned to spend the night at a hotel.

It was too late. To get back to Everwood, he’d have to take a plane and then a car, which meant he wouldn’t arrive until at least nine at night.

He started walking, cupping his hands against the wind to light a cigarette. He had just taken a drag when the phone in his pocket suddenly buzzed.

He stopped, pulled out his phone, and saw the message. His well-defined fingers pinched the cigarette as he pressed his tongue against his back molars.

Moira Sloan: I want sweet and sour pork for dinner tonight. And spicy diced chicken.