Chapter 887: Long Time No See, Lyle Westbrook

Chapter 887: Chapter 887: Long Time No See, Lyle Westbrook

Little brother handed the money to Jasmine Clark.

Without counting, Jasmine stuffed the money into her bag, forcing a smile and said, “Gentlemen, I won’t disturb you any longer.”

She placed the unconscious Giselle Lawrence on a chair and hurriedly left the room.

Little brother watched her leave, uneasily saying, “First Brother, there’s something off about that woman. Could this kid bring us trouble?”

“What’s there to fear? She’s just stolen a kid. As long as it’s not the president’s child, what’s there to be afraid of? Besides, I want to cause some trouble right now. It’d be good to stir up some trouble. How else am I supposed to explain to the Young Master?”

“First Brother is wise. Should we get a doctor to check on this kid?”

...

The fat man glanced indifferently at the unconscious Giselle Lawrence and said dismissively, “Why bother? Just throw her in the dark room. It’s just a cold and fever, she won’t die, she’s not that delicate.”

“Understood.”

Little brother carried Giselle Lawrence inside.

The man seemed bored and suddenly ordered a person beside him, “Go, find me some women to have fun with.”

“First Brother, the same ones as before?”

“Find some pretty ones.”

“Understood.”

Soon after, two rough-looking beautiful women entered the underground casino, appearing very familiar with the man. The trio went into a room, laughing and playing…

…

At this moment.

In the Presidential Suite of the five-star hotel opposite the casino town’s underground casino, a man in black clothing and pants, exuding an inexplicably comfortable aura, sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, fiddling with a small knife.

His skin was pale, his features deep. When his eyes lowered, his long eyelashes shielded his glassy pupils, giving off a serene and gentle sensation, much like an angel.

Yet at the same time, he held a sharp little knife that starkly contrasted with the angelic image. The knife was pitch-black, its blade gleaming coldly, clearly extremely sharp.

Unafraid of cutting himself, his fingertips slid across the sharp side of the knife. Dressed in black, against the black curtains, he seemed to blend into one with the backdrop.

Just by sitting there, he emitted a formidable aura.

Although the aura was not as sharp and domineering as Baron Lawrence’s, it still made one’s heart tremble within its composedness.

Click.

The door to the Presidential Suite opened.

A man in black quietly entered, bowing to him, “Young Master Lyle, Patrick is back. He’s currently in the underground casino.”

“Finally back, I thought he’d stay with my Brother for quite a while. Turns out he knows to return,” Wyndham Howell, no, it should be Lyle Westbrook lifted his head. His dark eyes looked exceptionally beautiful. Without gold-rimmed glasses, the shape of his eyes was fully visible, possessing the almost bewitching beauty of Peach Blossom Eyes.

Their perfect upward curve gave the illusion of intense focus whenever he looked at someone. It seemed that for that moment, he was solely focused on that person. Yet upon closer inspection, one would realize there was nothing in his gaze, passionate yet heartless!

The man in black, being watched by him, quickly lowered his head, not daring to meet his gaze, and asked softly, “Young Master, do we wait for the Young Master to leave before we make our move, or…?”

“Now! Since he dares to poach my people, I’ll let him see if my people are so easily taken!”

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