Chapter 113: How Thick of a Wallet Can Block a Bullet

[Chapter 113: How Thick of a Wallet Can Block a Bullet]

The plane slowly descended at Los Angeles International Airport.

Boyle Kaman stepped off the plane, and a few cars were already waiting nearby.

Alex, the president of Etna's Los Angeles branch, approached and shook Boyle's hand. "Mr. Kaman, welcome."

Boyle subtly withdrew his hand and asked, "How's everything with Red Valley?"

The person in charge appeared awkward. "Things aren't going smoothly; they rejected our acquisition proposal."

Boyle replied calmly, "That's okay. I came here to discuss just that."

As he spoke, he got into the car. The person in charge was about to enter as well, but Boyle, without looking up, said, "I don't like to share a ride with anyone."

Embarrassed, the person stepped back and walked toward another car.

The convoy slowly started toward Etna's Los Angeles branch.

...

Boyle was still reviewing the documents in his hand when a young man sitting in the front passenger seat said, "Mr. Kaman, since you're here in Los Angeles, do you need any arrangements? I mean outside of work."

Boyle looked up at the young man.

The young man smiled. "I'm Billy Kirkham, the claims department head at the Los Angeles branch."

Boyle replied, "I know you. I heard you did well in claims management."

Billy Kirkham chuckled. "It's all because of the board's guidance that we can keep the claims door secure."

Boyle didn't lift his eyes. "The door to claims can't be closed; the key is how to leverage more ambiguous clauses and not offend the wrong people."

Billy Kirkham quickly replied, "But those people you shouldn't offend usually have no need for claims. Only the poor rely on those."

Boyle looked up at Kirkham and said, "You're as naive as a child. Claims aren't for those who need it; it's for those you can't upset, understand?"

Billy sighed, "Yes, I understand, but often we can't determine who's untouchable when dealing with sudden incidents."

Boyle was taken aback. "What do you mean by that?"

"For example, ambulances -- they don't care; they just follow the money. They won't know who we want to compensate and who we don't."

Boyle's expression hardened; he glanced at the driver.

Billy added, "They're on our side."

Boyle, however, insisted, "I don't want to discuss this issue."

Billy then smiled, "Alright, how about discussing life instead? You know Los Angeles has Hollywood, full of celebrities."

Boyle looked surprised. "You can arrange that?"

Billy grinned. "I happen to know a somewhat famous but very beautiful girl. She went through a rough time recently and is looking for protection from someone important."

He handed Boyle a photo featuring a stunning woman.

Billy stated, "Jessica Alba. If you want, I can arrange for her to come to your room tonight."

Boyle smiled.

He nodded slightly, "Jessica Alba, yes, I know her. I didn't expect you'd pull this off, Billy. Being a claims department head seems a bit beneath you."

He glanced at Kirkham, "Let's say eleven tonight. I'm someone who enjoys working."

...

Under the night sky in the hotel, Boyle was still deeply engrossed in his materials.

After considering the key points for the negotiations the following day, he meticulously circled them with his pen.

He set down the pen, stood up, and stretched his arms, doing a few shoulder rotations.

Standing before the large glass windows, he gazed at the stunning night view below, where people were laughing loudly under the bright city lights.

As one of the world's most prosperous areas, Beverly Hills felt like a city within a city, where only the elite could reside.

Reflecting on the hard work of the past few years, Boyle felt it had all been worthwhile.

A slight smile crept onto his lips.

At that moment, a knock on the door echoed.

...

Boyle checked the time on his expensive watch.

"Right on time, exactly eleven," Boyle remarked with a smile.

He approached the door and opened it to see Jessica Alba standing there, accompanied by Billy Kirkham.

"Hi!" Jessica waved at Boyle.

Boyle returned the smile, "Please come in, Miss Alba."

Jessica brushed past Boyle into the room. He intended to take her coat, but she had already removed it herself and hung it on a rack.

As Boyle turned to close the door, he noticed Kirkham walking in as well.

Frowning, he asked, "What are you doing in here?"

Kirkham hurriedly responded, "Don't take it the wrong way, Mr. Kaman. Miss Alba has some things to discuss with you. I didn't mean for you to misunderstand, so..."

Boyle saw the helplessness in his expression and said no more, retreating to sit on the sofa in the living room. "If it's about money, just say it directly."

"It's not about money, Mr. Kaman." Jessica sat down before him, crossing one alluring leg over the other, exposing a lot of her flawless skin, making Boyle slightly lose his focus.

Jessica Alba continued, "I have a friend who works at an ambulance center and wants to earn some extra cash. Mr. Kirkham indicated that you might be able to arrange something."

Ambulance center? Extra cash?

Boyle was taken aback. "That has nothing to do with me."

He glanced at Kirkham.

Kirkham sighed, "Alex mentioned that the expenses on that end were quite high and that cuts were planned. In this situation, I can't arrange for more people. You know once someone is in the ambulance, they don't get out. But if you speak on this, it should be fine."

Boyle shook his head repeatedly. "I don't know what you're talking about. What ambulance center expenses are irrelevant to me; I'm not aware of it and not responsible for it."

As he looked back at Jessica, he said, "Miss Alba, if you want to help your friend, I have a simple suggestion. I can give you some money, and then you can give it to your friend."

Jessica questioned, "How much would you give me?"

Boyle answered, "Ten thousand dollars."

Jessica shook her head. "I heard some people at the ambulance center can earn three to five thousand dollars a month, I mean every month."

"Fuck!" Boyle shouted angrily at Kirkham, "What did you just say?"

Kirkham rushed to explain, "It wasn't me; it was one of those ambulance people. You know those folks make a show of it when they can. Someone's aware they've been pocketing extra cash. I've been to deliver cash... well, three times, and they saw me. They want in on it!"

Boyle cursed, "But you shouldn't drag me into this; it has nothing to do with me!"

Jessica Alba immediately interjected, "But you know, right? And you have the authority to decide. We're just looking for a part-time job. Is that so hard for you? You're a board member, the executive president! It should be a small matter for you."

Boyle pointed angrily at Jessica Alba, "Shut up! You don't understand anything. As long as you're willing to open your legs to serve me well, you could get a million from me, instead of becoming a butcher to take those people out just to earn a few thousand!"

As he spoke, he suddenly slammed the brakes, looking horrified at Jessica.

Jessica smiled lightly.

She nodded slowly, "So, are you indeed suggesting to direct the ambulance personnel to take longer routes for emergency patients, preventing them from getting timely treatment? That's what this part-time job entails, right?"

Boyle stared at Jessica blankly, suddenly realizing something, and shouted at Kirkham, "Search her!"

However, Kirkham just looked at Boyle with sympathy and made no move.

Boyle felt a chill run through him.

Kirkham quietly said, "I have no choice, Mr. Kaman. They've threatened my daughter and wife... They are gang members, and they can really do it."

"Fuck! You dared to turn against a board member!" Boyle yelled as he lunged at Jessica.

Just then, the door was violently kicked open.

A huge Black man burst in, smashing into Boyle with his shoulder and flipping him to the ground.

Boyle cried out, "George!"

"Your bodyguards are asleep, a beautiful girl and a drink can take care of them easily," the big Black man chuckled.

Boyle retorted angrily, "Damn it, this is a five-star hotel!"

"We're in the room next to you, we are guests here."

A relaxed voice chimed in.

...

Ian stepped in with his hands in his pockets, followed by Helen Berry, the one responsible for neutralizing Boyle's bodyguard.

Jessica joyously rushed to Ian, "Ian! Did I do a good job?"

"A professional performance!" Ian laughed as he kissed her.

Jessica's acting wasn't exceptional, but it sufficed for this setting.

Jessica said, "Then hurry up and deal with that guy. The way he looked at my thighs makes me want to puke. I enjoy this part; punishing the evildoers is the most thrilling aspect, isn't it?"

Ian wrapped his arms around Jessica's waist, "I'm afraid I would have to disappoint you, darling. While I wouldn't engage in trafficking women, I'm not that different from a gang in other aspects... You know sometimes if you perform too kindly, even if you are strong, they will look down on you? For a gang, following a good person is their greatest disgrace!"

The Black man who had knocked down Boyle chuckled and flexed his bulging muscles next to Ian.

His name was Hadark, a renowned enforcer from the Crips.

The Crips had once had six prominent enforcers; after the battle to reclaim the gang, only he remained.

But it was fine, enforcers would grow again, like weeds!

Then Ian waved his hand, signaling Kirkham and Hadark to head out and close the door.

...

Boyle stared blankly at Ian. "Ian Carr? I know you... Why? Why are you doing this?"

Ian sat down in front of Boyle. "About three months ago, a shooting occurred in a tavern in Montecito. Bloods retaliated, shooting everyone there, which included an innocent old man."

Boyle began to put the pieces together. "Your father?"

Ian gently shook his head. "No, but he's like a father to me. I respect him."

He leaned toward Boyle. "His name is Gaskill Bronte, chairman of Lino Bank. Of course, Lino Bank is only valued at over two billion, managing hundreds of billions. It can't compare to a giant like Etna Insurance, but thankfully life is fair. No matter how much money you have or how powerful you are, a single bullet can take it all away."

As he spoke, he gazed out the large window behind Boyle, smiling, "Maybe a bullet isn't even needed."

Boyle grew terrified. He shouted, "This is a misunderstanding! That wasn't our arrangement; the board would never make such a decision!"

"I know! You certainly would never make a decision that would hang you! You just pretend to be deaf and dumb and let it go! I also know you have no intention of defaulting on your debt." Ian nodded.

He smiled, "I overheard your conversation with Kirkham; I have a recording on my body, but its value isn't very high! You're willing to compensate the rich, not the poor. But it has already happened, and even though Gaskill didn't die, I am still furious! Can you understand this anger? That someone close to you almost lost their life because some company wanted to save a few hundred thousand in medical costs!"

Boyle understood.

He nodded gently, "How thick of a wallet does it take to block a bullet?"

*****

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