Gone for a Year, She's 8 Months Pregnant:The Hidden Billionaire's Revenge

"Uncle Walter, don't rush. Let's hear what ridiculous question he wants to ask first." Adam's gaze slid toward me, loaded with meaning. "Besides, he's signing today whether he wants to or not."

Walter let out a cold laugh at that.

I ignored them both and spoke evenly.

"First question. How much profit have your two families pulled in over the last few months?"

Walter had no intention of answering, but Adam waved him off—said I should get an education on what real money looked like.

Walter sneered. "Pruitt Corp brings in roughly ten million a month."

"Even a tenth of that is more than you'd earn in a lifetime."

Adam smiled thinly. "Impressive, Uncle Walter. Though Henson Corp edges you out—fifteen million."

I nodded. "Second question. Where do your major clients come from?"

"From what I understand, there aren't many domestic players left in your industry. Most have already been weeded out."

Walter glanced at Adam.

Adam caught his meaning instantly.

"The hell are you digging into, you worthless mutt?"

"Henson Corp has exclusive overseas client channels. Dragonrise Holdings brokered the introduction for us."

A faint smile crossed my face. "So that confirms it. Your only pipeline is that single foreign trade channel."

"I'm just curious—what happens to you if that pipeline dries up?"

Walter looked at me as though I'd told the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"Who do you think you are—the CEO of Dragonrise?! You think you can just shut it down?!"

That was when Eunice Pruitt emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands, her expression dripping with contempt.

"Why are you all wasting your breath on him? A deadbeat like him has probably never even set foot inside Dragonrise's lobby."

"I could hear everything from the kitchen. All that talking, and he's still shamelessly refusing to sign. He just wants money—that's all this is."

The room erupted in laughter.

Then Walter's face turned to stone.

"You won't touch a single cent of mine. Sign the papers like a good boy, and we're done. Refuse—" His voice dropped. "—and you won't be walking out of here."

When I still didn't move, Adam let out a mocking laugh. "Looks like you really don't know when to take the easy way out."

"I despise people touching what's mine. You spent three years as Cynthia's husband, so here's what you're going to do—knock your forehead on the ground three times, then crawl between my legs."

His smile widened. "Do that, and maybe we'll let you leave breathing."

I chuckled softly. "Henson Corp, is it? No wonder you were on the brink of bankruptcy back then."

"But tell me—did you actually think I was asking those questions because I wanted your money?"

They laughed again.

"A broke loser like you? If it's not money, what else could you possibly want?"

"You're wrong." My voice was calm, unhurried. "I have zero interest in your pocket change. I just wanted to see how ridiculous you all look bragging about those pathetic little numbers like they're achievements."

"And also—to confirm whether you have any fallback options."

Cynthia's lip curled in disgust. "Marcus, would it kill you to stop bluffing for five seconds?"

"Adam's family is backed by Dragonrise—an absolute titan. What, you think you can bring down Dragonrise?"

Adam pulled her into his arms. "Sweetheart, your taste was really something else back then. Marrying this idiot."

Walter's expression twisted, dark and vicious. "I was only going to rough you up a little. But now you have the nerve to run your mouth?"

"I've wanted you gone for a long time. If it weren't for my daughter, you think you'd still be alive today?!"

"Get in here!"

His palm slammed the table.

But the next moment—silence. Nothing but silence from behind the door.

A middle-aged man in glasses walked in and approached me, his posture deferential.

"Mr. Dickerson, the men outside have been taken care of."