Carlo sat up straighter, just a touch ahead of Johnny, his face serious and gaze firm as he replied,
"Everything is in place. The leader, Hassan, is my cousin. All the men are our top picks from nearby towns.
The scapegoats are ready too—just waiting for tomorrow's workers' riot."
Ben pondered for a moment, then continued asking,
"And that little guy of yours?"
Carlo knew Ben meant the hitman who had escaped earlier today. A hard question.
Thinking fast, he deliberately leaned back a bit. He knew that if he delayed even slightly, the eager Johnny would jump to answer—and sure enough:
"Uh, yes, sir, he's been taken care of. We'll sneak him out of town tomorrow during the chaos, then off him."
As Johnny spoke, he made a slicing motion across his neck.
He thought this gesture would demonstrate his ruthlessness. What he forgot was—this wasn't his little factory.
Ben and Rock Meyer both frowned even deeper. Ben glanced at Rock, and Rock said to Johnny in a low voice:
"Johnny, you should understand that getting through this door is a reward. And silence is a virtue."
It sounded polite. Too polite.
He forgot Johnny was just a thug and only heard the praise at the start. He grinned, ready to speak again.
Ben, already simmering with anger, suddenly erupted:
"Idiot! Get out!"
Johnny's smile froze halfway. His face flushed from white to red, then from red to black. His fists clenched, veins bulging.
He wanted to punch the disrespectful young man. But he didn't dare. If he did, Carlo would gladly get rid of him along with the scapegoat tomorrow.
Still, his pride wouldn't let him stand up and slink away. So he sat there, awkwardly stiff, until Carlo placed a hand on his shoulder and said,
"Johnny, wait for me at the door."
That gave Johnny an out. Face still dark, he left the drawing room.
As his figure disappeared, a smile crept onto Carlo's lips. Fool. Still trying to compete with me?
But when he turned back, he met the icy stares of Ben and Rock.
They were no fools—of course they could see Carlo was using them. Ben ground out a few words between clenched teeth:
"This is the last time. Don't bring it up again."
Then he continued,
"That troublemaker from earlier today—the one called Leo. He won't be a problem again, will he?"
The mention of Leo unsettled Carlo.
He had a gut feeling that Leo was planning something.
But reason told him Leo's appearance at the cinema had to be a coincidence.
After all, Leo had left with Emily quietly, without stirring up more trouble.
It's hard to trust instinct.
"He won't be an issue, sir. Even in the worst case, if he does try something, he won't succeed.
My men at the lumberyard are armed—Thompsons, M1911s.
In Lynchburg, I don't think anyone can take them down. Not even the police."
Carlo had made thorough arrangements. Ben and Rock exchanged a glance, then both fell into thoughtful silence.
They, too, felt there shouldn't be a problem.
Just as Rock lifted his glass to toast the success of tomorrow's plan, the shrill ring of a telephone pierced the calm night from the desk near the window.
Rock answered. His brows furrowed almost immediately.
He set the phone down, face dark, and first glanced at Carlo—then turned to Ben.
"The killer collapsed outside the police station. Jonathan had no choice but to arrest him.
Patrick is furious. He says our deal is off. We're on our own."
Carlo was stunned. He didn't fully grasp what Rock meant at first.
But Ben did. His face turned pitch-black. He hurled the wine glass—still mid-toast—straight into Carlo's face.
Red wine mixed with blood trickled down Carlo's forehead.
The pain snapped him to attention. The killer I hid in the lumberyard collapsed outside the police station? How is that possible?
Wait... the lumberyard!
Carlo shot to his feet. But Ben was quicker. The three of them rushed out in a line.
As they exited, Carlo caught a glimpse of Johnny's face, which was twisted in smug schadenfreude.
But now was not the time for payback. Carlo barked:
"Johnny, get back to the factory. Tell the boys to gear up—we're heading to the lumberyard!"
He dove into Rock's already-started car, and the engine roared toward the lumberyard.
After Johnny drove off, silence fell over the villa. In the low hedges outside, two figures stood up.
"Boss," Joseph whispered, "that young guy must be important. Even that tightwad Rock Meyer opened the door for him."
In the battlefield, special forces often conducted assassination missions. Joseph, well-trained, was good at spotting targets in a crowd.
"Joseph," Leo replied, "you've got a mission. I want to know who that guy is—by tomorrow evening."
Leo had memorized Ben's face.
He had a feeling—if that man wasn't the mastermind, he was certainly a key executor.
It was 3 a.m. now, but there would be no rest for Leo and Joseph.
Following Johnny's tire tracks, they tailed him to the industrial zone on the edge of Lynchburg, where they easily located Carlo and Johnny's base.
Why so easy? Because the factory lights were blazing, voices shouting, and two cars roared off toward the lumberyard.
Leo, with his keen eyesight, recognized many of the men—they were once people he had helped.
It was clear now: after Leo left, Carlo had turned them into thugs and troublemakers.
As dawn broke over the horizon, Leo had completed all of his night's objectives:
He had defused a potential worker riot.
Avenged Doat's death.
Reunited with Michael and learned the truth behind everything.
And, most importantly, confirmed all his suspicions through the killer and Joseph.
Four goals, all achieved.
Only downside? His hands were once again stained with blood.
But fortunately, this was still rugged America.
A few missing small-town youths wouldn't spark public outrage.
Here, if the media didn't care, it didn't count as murder.
As Leo and the others finally slipped into sleep, back at the now-empty lumberyard, Ben was screaming at the top of his lungs.
Carlo, of course, was the target.
Ben's words were vicious, peppered with Hebrew curses. Carlo was barely keeping it together.
But more shocking than the verbal abuse was this: the lumberyard was completely empty?
"Not a single trace," Johnny reported, face grim.
"Nothing?"
Carlo couldn't believe it.
Johnny just shrugged, gesturing at the lack of any evidence.
SLAP!
Ben struck Carlo hard across the face.
"Useless! Your good-for-nothing cousin took the $20,000 and ran!"
Ben and Rock had arrived early. They had searched the lumberyard thoroughly. Too clean.
So their logical conclusion: there had been no fight at all.
Clearly, Carlo's men had taken half the payment and vanished.
In other words—Carlo had failed again.
Carlo didn't believe Hassan would flee, but the reality before him left no room for defense.
And for some reason… Leo's face flashed in his mind.
So he blurted out:
"Could it be Leo?"