Facing his dim-witted cousin, Bentley remained impassive. "Dozens of boxes of Scotch, a collection of antiques, a million-dollar set of golf clubs, diving gear, wristwatches, cash, pistols and bullets, a five-million-dollar Samurai sword, as well as a batch of high-grade food."
"Pistols and bullets?" Bran was astonished. "You're quite the rascal."
Bentley glanced at him, "You're one to talk."
Ramming other cars, starting brawls, and tax issues, if it weren't for the apocalypse, these wouldn't be issues you could solve with a stint in the slammer.
"What you lost doesn't even amount to the cost of my car." Bran was meant to find this amusing, but instead, he felt more despondent. "How the hell did you keep all this stuff at your office?"
"I had kept Lindsay trapped in the villa. She was extremely unruly, not just smashing everything in sight, but she even stabbed me a few times. She would go crazy every time she saw me."
So, for a long period of time, he lived in his office, only returning to the villa when he really wanted to see her.
Trapped? Bran was taken aback, "With your status and position, you could have any woman you want. Just a snap of your fingers and there'd be a line of women ready to orbit the earth three times. Is it necessary to resort to such measures?"
"You wouldn't understand her worth." Bentley's intense gaze revealed sadness. "I broke her legs, chained her up, all in the hopes of winning her heart. There are plenty of women in this world, but I only want her."
This wasn't his cousin, this was a criminal. Bran's worldview was challenged, "What happened next?"
"She was disobedient, so I starved her for half a month as punishment. All she had to do was apologize, but she'd rather drink toilet water and chew on tissues, than bow to me. Then the hurricane came, she stabbed me and jumped from the second floor."
"Did she die?"
"No." Bentley was engulfed in painful memories, "She starved for half a month, was skin and bones, had a broken leg, and was carried away by the hurricane."
He had searched frantically for a long time but didn't even find a trace of her.
In the backseat, Stella with her excellent hearing, felt silent.
Wasn't this just Bentley and Bran, two law-breaking individuals, casually discussing their crimes as if she wasn't there?
Right, it was the apocalypse now. Even if there were no legal boundaries before the disaster, who would hold them accountable now?
But why did the list of items Bentley reported missing sound so familiar to her?
Stella racked her brains and her pupils dilated in realization. Damn, all the stuff Bentley lost was in her Arcadia. There were still a few bottles of Scotch left, and plenty of steak and ham. If they found out, she probably wouldn't even be left with a scrap of bone.
It was the apocalypse though. Who hadn't gotten their hands dirty?
Initially timid Stella suddenly brimmed with courage; there was no way she was returning anything. You want a fight? Bring it on!
Despite her internal bravery, she maintained a low profile, making sure they didn't notice her. So she pretended to be engrossed in the meeting.
Everyone living in Hopefield was well-off, and they all agreed to pay property fees based on the size of their villas.
Stella was all for it. Her house was the smallest, but she still had to pay 20 kilograms of food every month. The Porras family had to pay no less than 150 kilograms.
In this way, the property management got a lot of grain.
The vice-chair suggested hiring some cleaning and gardening staff. After all, many families had pets that needed to be walked and relieved, and there was also the matter of handling household waste.
The Porras family had no objections, and neither did anyone else.
...
In reality, Bran was just bored. He missed cars. Sigh, a Range Rover would do. Better than nothing.
Who knew Bentley's Range Rover wouldn't be easy to get. Despite Bran's carefree demeanor, he had a solid network. "You need to find a way to find Lindsay for me."
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