She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 196

Businessmen of his caliber didn't make a move easily. If something really went wrong and the authorities launched a cross-border investigation, no one would escape. It wasn't about the money; the aftermath was just too messy.

Killing someone with a profile like James was too troublesome, too hot to handle.

"I want this man's life..." Lyra spat viciously, but the image of Alistair leaning on his cane flashed in her mind. She decided to show the old man a little respect. "...manhood, actually."

Silence stretched over the line for a few seconds before a booming voice rattled off a string of fluent Arabic. "Boss! Are we taking this man's life or his manhood? There's an old saying about a miss being as good as a mile—you better make up your mind."

Lyra flushed. "His manhood."

"Fine. The price goes up fifty times." Hearing that it wasn't an actual assassination made things easier for the hitter.

"What? A hit costs millions of dollars, but this is going to cost fifty times that?"

"Taking a life only requires one bullet. What you're asking for requires close-quarters combat. Word is, James is a marksman and a deadly fighter. You tell me, ma'am, is it worth it?"

Alarm bells rang in Lyra's head!

In just a few sentences, her contact had switched from calling her 'Boss' to 'ma'am.' They clearly knew she was using a voice changer.

"Forget it," Lyra said, forcing down her panic and maintaining a guarded tone. "Never mind. His worthless life isn't worth that much money."

Lyra backed out.

She hung up immediately, ripping the SIM card out of the phone without a second of delay. With a hard throw, she tossed it into the rushing river below, then slammed on the gas and sped away.

...

The next day, the scorching sun baked the desert into a harsh bronze. Wind whipped up crimson dust, carrying the blistering heat and swirling sands of the Middle East.

Before the vehicle could even come to a complete stop, Ian grabbed the door frame and vaulted smoothly from the half-open cab, his boots kicking up a cloud of dirt.

A modified pickup truck slammed on its brakes near a pile of rubble right after him. Mercenaries clad in desert camo stepped out, shaking off the grit.

"No way it's a woman! Our boy James doesn't do romantic entanglements. He's as pure as they come—he wouldn't even let the local girls give him a foot massage."

In the past, whenever a maid knelt down to pull off his boots or tend to him, he would order her away. He found the very idea of women fawning over him completely repulsive, refusing to let them lay even a single finger on him.

"Then I must have read the situation wrong. The tone on the recording sounded just like a chick." The mercenary had already obtained the recording of the hitman's call, but seeing Rowan's total indifference, he dropped the subject.

Ian asked, "James, I heard you've got a girlfriend now? When are you going to let me fly back and meet her?"

Thinking of his girlfriend back home, a faint smile touched Rowan's lips. "Maybe someday, if the chance comes up."

"So when are you heading back?"

Rowan methodically checked his ammo one last time before his lips parted. "As soon as we finish the shipment in Petra."

"And another thing—look into Aurelius Capital."