Daniel Hayes nodded. "Yep, those two were weaklings. I took care of them easily."
Hearing Daniel Hayes’s hearty laughter, Chloe Reed couldn’t help but smile along. At moments like this, she truly felt that no one could bully her so easily anymore.
...
Two bruised and swollen bodyguards stood before Walker Grant, not daring to speak.
Walker Grant took out a cigarette and lit it, his sharp, phoenix-like eyes watching them indifferently.
An invisible pressure enveloped them. The two bodyguards lowered their heads and said, "Your wife’s driver spotted us. Before we could even react..."
Walker Grant said, "You can go."
The two bodyguards were overjoyed. ’The president didn’t punish us!’
They hurried away, still limping as they left.
Walker Grant looked in the direction the car had disappeared. Chloe Reed had a new expert by her side.
’How have I never heard of someone like that?’
He took out his phone and made a call. When the other person answered, he said, "Did you do the thing I asked you to?"
"Did it," the person on the other end replied, their voice lazy. "The guy’s already in Breyburn. He should have made contact with your wife by now, right?"
Walker Grant said coolly, "I want to meet him."
"Heh... What do you mean by that? Don’t you trust me?" the person’s tone was flippant. "If you don’t trust me, then don’t use him."
But Walker Grant said, "I might have already met him, but I need to confirm it."
"Hmm?" The person was clearly taken aback for a moment, then laughed. "Interesting. Fine, I’ll send you his file. You can contact him."
"Mm."
Walker Grant hung up and finished his cigarette. His phone vibrated—the file had been sent.
When he saw the man’s rugged face in the file’s photo, his sharp eyes narrowed.
’Daniel Hayes.’
’It really was him.’

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