From Bullets To Billions novel Chapter 693

Chapter 693: The Same Goal

Notting Hill was a city that had historically seen a massive influx of corporate investment. Major conglomerates and international developers had poured billions into the region over the years, drawn by a variety of economic incentives and strategic zoning laws. However, there was a stark, geographical disparity to this wealth; the high-end investments, polished glass high-rises, and gentrified districts were all strictly concentrated within the central core of the city.

The older infrastructure projects and ambitious commercial developments that had originally been slated for the outskirts of the city and the expanding suburban areas had been abruptly abandoned when corporate funding dried up. When the global recession had hit the financial sectors, investors abandoned speculative, long-term suburban projects in favor of reliable, low-risk assets in the central business district. Because of this sudden shift in capital, multiple high-profile construction projects across the periphery were left completely derelict.

Half-finished building sites, skeletal shopping malls, and multi-story concrete car parks sat rotting in the elements. In one particularly isolated sector of the outer suburbs, there lay an abandoned retail park where a single car wasn’t in sight. The asphalt was cracked and overgrown with weeds because the commercial development had been halted before it could ever open its doors to the public.

The anchor store of the complex was basically an empty concrete shell on the outside, devoid of any logo or signage. Inside the hollow supermarket itself, a few cracked tiles remained glued to the floor, but there was next to nothing else. The interior was completely gutted, leaving nothing but a exposed metal framework and the rust-damaged scraps of a metallic roof hanging high overhead.

In the center of this desolate, echoing space, a single individual had brought out a cheap plastic chair. He sat on it patiently in the gloom, methodically adjusting the strap of his tactical glove to ensure a perfect, tight fit.

The sharp, echoing sound of footsteps soon reverberated through the cavernous room, signaling an arrival. A moment later, Donto Stern stepped into view. He hadn’t come alone; walking directly by his side was a personal security guard wearing a tailored black suit and dark sunglasses, his posture rigid and professional.

"Did you really think there was a pressing need to bring your private security personnel with you to a meeting of this nature?" Dud asked, not even looking up from his glove as his voice echoed off the concrete walls. "I sat under the impression that we had established a baseline of trust."

"I don’t trust you," Donto countered flatly, stopping a few paces away. "Let’s not confuse the situation. We are simply two individuals who happen to share the exact same tactical goal. After this operation is finalized and Max is broken, I am going back to doing whatever I want, and you can do whatever the hell you want."

"Well, if this was the kind of high-level enforcement job that your standard corporate bodyguards were capable of handling, then we wouldn’t have a logical reason to meet in a graveyard like this," Dud said, a condescending smirk playing on his lips as he finally stood up from his plastic chair. "The people you will be meeting today are going to be capable of effortlessly breaking that guard of yours into pieces."

A thick vein on the side of the bodyguard’s temple visibly throbbed at the insult. Despite the blatant disrespect, the professional kept his mouth shut, maintaining his stance and refusing to say anything out of line.

"You said we needed overwhelming numbers to crush Max’s infrastructure, right?" Donto said, his voice rising as he tried to reclaim his authority. "My primary role in this alliance is to provide the raw numbers—the foot soldiers. The street dealers, the muscle, and the campus runners all listen and do exactly as I command. Furthermore, I can mobilize a hundred more men from the surrounding districts using my family’s capital. In a lot of ways, I feel like I am financing and playing the absolute biggest part in this entire conspiracy. Because of that, I would expect you to address me with a bit more respect."

"Playing the biggest part, he says!"

A burst of mockingly loud laughter suddenly erupted from one of the massive, jagged gaps in the supermarket’s concrete wall.

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