The Disguised Billionaire She Rejected novel Chapter 135

Chapter 135

The old man let out a long, weary sigh.

“Young man, each of these houses is worth at least forty thousand dollars. Some even more. And they are offering us eight thousand. Eight thousand dollars for a home a family has lived in for thirty, forty years.”

Marcus scoffed in disbelief

The old man nodded slowly. “And that’s only for the homeowners. The tenants…” He shook his head. “The tenants get nothing at all. Not a single dollar. They are simply told to pack their belongings and leave.”

Betty pressed her lips together. “That’s terrible.”

“But it gets worse.” Another elderly woman leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Wang Entertainment has been telling people that they will receive additional compensation once the casino launches. That they will be treated as investors. That the money will come.”

Marcus looked at her steadily. “It all lie. don’t believe it”

The woman let out a hollow laugh. “We didn’t. That is how they operate. That is how they have always operated. They make promises they never intend to keep, and by the time people realize the truth, it is already too late.”

A heavy silence settled over the table.

Marcus nodded slowly. The anger inside him was quiet but deep.

A company willing to steal land from elderly residents, dress men in masks, and send them with wooden sticks to terrorize a neighborhood – all for a casino.

“Have you reported this to the police?” he asked.

Several residents exchanged tired glances.

“Times without number,” the old man said flatly. “We have filed reports more times than I can count. And sometimes they would arrest the thugs.” He paused. “Like today. But within hours, they are always released. Always. As if the arrest never happened.”

Marcus leaned back slightly.

Whoever is behind Wang Entertainment is not just wealthy. He is wealthy and connected also.

After a moment, he reached into his pocket and placed a contact card flat on the table.

“If they come back,” Marcus said, sliding it toward the old man, “call me. I’ll get you a lawyer. A real one, who will represent every single household in this neighborhood, owners and tenants alike.”

The table went completely quiet.

Then the elderly woman who had called him a hero outside slowly reached out and picked up the card with both hands. Her fingers trembled slightly.

“You mean that?” she whispered.

“I mean it.”

The room erupted.

1/3

+15 @ghin

Some of the older residents began speaking over each other in excitement. They had been trying to find a lawyer but none took the job, because they believed it stressful with low payment.

Betty watched Marcus quietly from across the table, a small, unreadable smile on her face.

It took several minutes before the room settled again. When it did, Betty smoothly transitioned into her survey, pulling out her tablet and guiding the residents through a series of questions.

The residents answered with enthusiasm. But near the end, one of the middle-aged men raised his hand.

“If this drink launches in our area,” he said, “we will market it ourselves. Every single one of us.” He looked around the table, and the others nodded firmly. “You helped us today. So we should do the same.”

Marcus glanced around the room. There were easily over two hundred residents gathered between the restaurant and the doorway.

Each one talking to their neighbors, or thier relatives would easily spread the product reach.

The reach of that, if properly organized, would dwarf any billboard campaign.

He become more determined to helped them.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the city, inside the upper floor of a private residence, the atmosphere was very different.

A man sat alone in a dimly lit parlor, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a bottle already halfway empty on the table beside him. His jacket was discarded across the back of the chair. His tie hung loosely around his neck.

Behind him, standing perfectly still against the wall, were two men.

This same two figures was the assasin that kill mr. Langstone, and the man sitting was thier master who had

ordered them.

The man took a long, slow sip from his glass, staring at nothing in particular, when the door suddenly opened.

A figure stepped inside, moving slowly, as though each step required deliberate courage.

It was the gang leader – the same man who was the leader of those thugs marcus had beaten moment ago.

“Boss”, He bowed. Trembling.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then, without warning, the man hurled his glass directly at him.

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