Making Millions With The Eyes Of God

Making 181

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Making Millions With The Eyes Of God

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After Sylas and Claire departed the mansion in the Rolls–Royce, Denton, Gilmore, and the others returned to the villa’s living room.

Denton then inquired about Christopher’s trip to Star Gate in Oakhaven.

Christopher recounted how he had ventured to Sword Mountain, and met the third elder of Star Gate and the leader.

He also explained how the leader had agreed to assist the Carter family, dispatching Sylas and Julian, a top internal force martialist, along with over a dozen mid–level internal force martialists to Oakhaven. Christopher, though Sylas keeps emphasizing that he will ensure our family’s safety, he is just a mid–level internal force martialist.

“The most powerful among them is Julian, an elite force martialist. If the Black Hawks send elite force martialists outnumbering us, our family could be in danger.”

Denton was still a little worried and said.

Christopher added, “I did suggest to the third elder of Star Gate to send more powerful helpers.

“The elder agreed, but I didn’t expect that the head of Star Gate would only send his son and elite force martialist Julian.

“In the words of the Star Gate leader, ‘Given that Star Gate, a reputable faction in Oakhaven, stands with the Carter family, the Black Hawks wouldn’t dare make a move.”

Denton understood that Star Gate was trying to employ a strategy of intimidation.

If the Black Hawks knew their place and stayed away from the Carters, there would be no conflict between Star Gate and the Black Hawks

Thus, Denton could only hope this deterrent would work and Lawrence, along with the Black Hawks, would back off.

Meanwhile, Gilmore, seated on the sofa, remained silent throughout the discussion.

“The Star Gate is placing too much trust in itself and in Sylas,” he thought. Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

From his God’s eye, Gilmore could tell that Sylas was utterly incompetent. Instead of serving as a deterrent to the Black Hawks, Sylas and his team seemed more like liabilities.

So, relying on them to counter Lawrence and his group was a pipe dream.

Yet, Gilmore chose to keep his insights to himself.

However, he needed to do something to remedy the crisis of the Carter family.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed as Stephen entered the villa’s living room.

“Sir, our operatives near the Weston estate have made a crucial discovery.” Stephen said solemnly to Denton.

Denton inquired, “Stephen, speak up. What have they found?”

“About an hour ago, over a dozen individuals dressed in the robes of the Black–Hawks arrived at the Weston estate. Norman and Lawrence personally greeted them,” Stephen reported.

Denton’s face turned serious, a determined glint in his eyes. “Just as I suspected. After I injured Lawrence, he wasn’t willing to let it go. He’s called in reinforcements from the Black Hawks to exact his revenge. “Dad, should we contact Claire immediately and inform Sylas about this, urging them to return as soon as possible? Christopher suggested with concern.

However, Denton waved him off, “No need. Even though Lawrence’s backup has arrived, if they are planning their revenge, they wouldn’t choose broad daylight. So there’s no need to alert Claire for now: “Let Sylas and the others enjoy their sightseeing and relaxin bit

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Making

Millions With The Eyes Of God

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“Because there’s a good chance that Lawrence and his crew might strike our estate tonight.”

“Sir, I’ll immediately organize our guards, experts, and the Phantom Guards to prepare for tonight’s confrontation.” Stephen said, fire burning in his eyes, his voice filled with unwavering resolve. Denton nodded, “Go ahead.”

As evening approached, a blazing red sun hung at the horizon where the sky met the sea, casting shimmering, golden reflections upon the waters–a sight to behold.

On the soft sands of the beach, many couples wandered hand in hand in the glow of the setting sun. While the young men whispered sweet nothings, their partners blushed as rosy as the evening sky. However, one particular pair lacked the whispered romantic exchanges and blushing cheeks– Sylas and Claire.

Sylas was pulling out all the stops, trying to impress Claire, hoping to charm her with his da witty humor, and tales of his exploits.

ng looks,

He cracked jokes, shared amusing anecdotes, and conversed about everything under the sun. But Claire seemed unimpressed, a veritable ice queen. At most, she’d allow the faintest hint of a smile to play upon her lips, only for it to vanish within a heartbeat, her expression returning to its original frosty

state.

It wasn’t really her fault; she had been wary of Sylas from the very beginning.

If it weren’t for the Carter family’s need to seek assistance from the Star Gate, Claire would never have agreed to this sightseeing escapade.

She was well aware that Sylas was using this opportunity to get closer to her, but she wasn’t having any of it.

In her eyes, Sylas paled in comparison to Gilmore–he couldn’t hold a candle to him.

Thus, that entire day, even on that beach, no matter how eloquent or entertaining Sylas tried to be, Claire remained unfazed.

And she always had that ice–cold expression on her face.

Finally, Sylas seemed to lose his patience.

Or perhaps, he simply ran out of tricks.

He stopped in his tracks, his face serious, but his eyes radiating a certain dominance. “Claire,” he said, “Do you really believe I can’t compare to your boyfriend, Gilmore?”

Claire was taken aback, unsure of Sylas’s intentions. “Mr. McLean,” she responded, “Gilmore is who he is, and you are you. Why would you want to compare yourself to him?”

Undeterred, Sylas pressed on, his demanding gaze turning soft, “Alright, let me ask you this then. If I can eliminate all threats to the Carter family tonight, will you agree to be my girlfriend?”

It was as if he believed the affection in his eyes could melt the icy barrier around Claire’s heart.

But to Claire, Sylas just seemed tiresome.

No matter what he did for her, she would never develop feelings for him.

Gilmore already held that special place in her heart.

Smiling slightly, Claire replied, “Mr. McLean, let’s not joke about this. It’s getting dark; we should head back.”

“Claire, you don’t believe me?” Sylas retorted, determination evident in his voice. “Give me just an hour. It’s five in the evening now. Before six, before it gets dark, I’ll be back to show you I’m a man of my word.”

With that, Sylas turned on his heel and strode confidently toward the Rolls–Royce parked nearby, leaving Claire behind, her face reflecting complete bewilderment, trying to piece together what had just transpired.

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