Chapter 874

As the middle-aged man slammed his hand on the table, a dozen sleek black guns clicked in unison, all aimed at Grady and the two managers in the room, ready to fire at any moment.

Grady stayed cool as a cucumber. He raised his hands and leisurely clapped, nodding. "So, evidence of illegal dealings, huh?"

The middle-aged man's eyes narrowed, clearly taken aback that Grady was still playing it calm. Laughing lightly, he said, "Won't shed a tear until you see the coffin, huh? You want evidence? Fine, come with us, and you'll see."

"Who do you think you are?" Atlas had enough of this guy's bluster. Threatening Grady right to his face? Not on his watch.

The middle-aged man's face darkened as he turned his gaze to Atlas. No one had ever dared to speak to him like that. With a quick glance, he signaled his men.

But before his men could even react, Atlas had already moved. In the blink of an eye, the middle-aged man was yanked from his chair, Atlas's hand gripping his throat. It took less than five seconds.

A cold smile played at the corners of Atlas's lips, his eyes flashing with a hint of menace. "What makes you think you have the right to sit at the head of the table?"

Seeing their boss suddenly held hostage, the dozen gunmen tensed, ready to aim at Atlas. But the other two managers sprang

holding a managerial position in the Davis family was skilled and capable. Trying to outgun them was a joke. Each of them had survived through gunfire and bullets. Fear? Not

the dozen armed

man's face turned pale, his previous arrogance

glanced disdainfully at

the ground in pain. If it weren't for Grady's principles of

"Losers," Atlas spat.

middle-aged man's pocket began to ring. The sound wasn't loud, but in the tense room,

scared to take out his

then glanced at Atlas and the two managers. "I've said it before; we're in

middle-aged man being choked and his men with

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