Saito brought the person before the man seated in the chair, then stepped aside.
Zhao Jingwan’s heart was pounding with anxiety. She carefully studied the man’s expression, but that indifferent face revealed nothing at all.
After a moment, the man in the chair stood up without even glancing at her. He walked to the torture rack and grabbed the injured man’s hair with his large hand.
The wounded man’s drooping head was forced upward, and only then did Zhao Jingwan get a clear look at his face.
It was that lawyer!
Fear surged through her instantly.
“Your background is clean—I really couldn’t find anything on you.”
Luo Jin gave a faint smile.
“But I know you must have some connection with Sheikh. Where is he?”
His voice dropped low, laced with ice.
The man’s lips moved, but not a single sound came out.
“Not talking? Fine, then I’ll ask someone else.”
He released his grip, stood up, and turned to look at the young woman frozen in place, not daring to move. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he said slowly,
“Why don’t you tell me—how exactly did you come to know this lawyer friend of yours?”
As if she hadn’t heard him, she remained silent for a long time. Luo Jin waited patiently until the girl’s strained voice finally responded, barely above a whisper,
“I don’t know the person you’re talking about.”
That answer really wasn’t surprising.
“I truly don’t know who you mean.”
She hastily explained herself again.
“Zhao Jingwan, liars get their tongues cut out.”
Luo Jin’s casual threat landed in her ears, and her entire body stiffened in terror.
“He… he’s a lawyer I hired. My friend went missing—you know that—and I couldn’t find him, so I… I found a lawyer to help…”
Her heart was hollow, and her voice grew quieter with each word.
Such a lie would be hard to sell even to an ordinary person, let alone the man standing before her.
But Zhao Jingwan couldn’t think of any other excuse at the moment. She remembered what Lawyer Zhuang had told her. Her instinct screamed that she must never admit her connection to Sheikh.
“Is that so? So you’re saying you were merely in an employer-client relationship?”
“Y-yes… that’s right.”
She nodded, forcing herself to look resolute.
She had no idea whether the man would believe her clumsy lie. All she could do now was hold her ground and not show any weakness.
Luo Jin walked slowly toward her, fixing his gaze on the girl’s seemingly calm face. His dark eyes were unfathomable, carrying an intense scrutiny.
Zhao Jingwan’s hands hung at her sides, and she fought desperately to keep them still, betraying no nervous movement.
A long moment passed—so long she nearly buckled under the oppressive weight of his stare—before he finally spoke.
“Then I must have been mistaken.”
Saito, who had been standing by waiting to enjoy the show, nearly dropped his jaw. Mistaken? What mistake??
Who was speaking?
Did that word even exist in his boss’s vocabulary?
A man who had always preferred to kill a thousand by mistake rather than let one escape—why was he suddenly being so reasonable?
Besides, where was the mistake? That girl definitely had some connection to Barrola, and the lawyer was certainly suspicious too.
That girl’s pathetic lie wouldn’t fool even him—how could it possibly fool his boss?
Luo Jin slid his hands into his trouser pockets and said flatly,
“Let him go.”
Despite the questions churning in his mind, Saito obeyed the order and signaled one of his men.
The lawyer was escorted out. Even Zhao Jingwan felt it had gone too smoothly, and an uneasy feeling gnawed at her.
“Then… then can I leave too?”
Since everything had been cleared up and he believed her, she should be able to go, right?
Luo Jin reached out and pinched her chin, giving a contemptuous smile.
“I grabbed the wrong person, that’s true—but I didn’t grab the wrong one with you. Whenever you’ve cleaned yourself up and come to me willingly, once I’m satisfied, you can go.”
Watching the man’s carefree figure walk away, Zhao Jingwan felt the breath she’d just released catch in her throat again.
Was there really no escape for her?
No. There had to be a way.
Upstairs from the basement, Zhou Zheng had just returned from seeing the lawyer off.
“I’ve already sent someone to tail him.”
The lawyer probably wouldn’t be contacting Sheikh anytime soon. Sheikh definitely wasn’t in Dubai—as for which country he was in, they had no leads for now.
It was only then that Saito understood—his boss was playing the long game, casting a line to catch a big fish.
“Before the massacre at Barrola’s estate, a shipment of weapons went missing.”
That news had spread fast through the underworld. With hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of goods lost, who wouldn’t be tempted?
The weapons Sheikh was supposed to trade with the Russians had vanished along with his disappearance.
He’d gone to the docks to ask around—the deal should have been delivered a month ago.
Counting back the dates, a cargo ship had indeed docked around that time, and people had spotted Barrola’s men at the pier.
He guessed the one who went to make the trade was Barrola’s head steward, Sifu.
But the man was already dead—he’d been at the estate the day of the massacre.
So the only one who knew where that shipment of weapons was, was Sheikh.
Now everyone was looking for him. Even if for nothing else, just for that shipment of arms, every faction would be searching for his trail in the shadows.
Luo Jin had long harbored ambitions to monopolize the Middle East’s arms trade. When Barrola was alive, it had given him no small headache.
Barrola did business without principles—as long as the money was right, he’d take any order from anyone.
As a legitimate arms dealer, Barrola’s public transactions had to comply with international law and were constrained by various parties, which meant he could never dominate the market alone.
But Luo Jin was different. If he could take over the business Barrola had vacated, he could easily handle both legitimate and underground dealings simultaneously.
With the channels and stable clients already in place, going legit while keeping the shadow operations running wouldn’t be hard at all.
This was a good opportunity.
Luo Jin walked to the dining table and sat down. He didn’t spare a glance at the lavish breakfast spread, his long fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop a few times.
Somewhere behind him, someone was dawdling.
With his keen senses, he could immediately pick up on that timid, weak-willed presence—impossible to ignore.
His brow furrowed slightly, and his lips, pressed together, parted just a little.
“If you don’t dare come over to eat, then go hungry all day.”
Saito froze, then turned his head to see a figure inching her way over bit by bit.
The boss was… talking to her?
Wait, who was she? She got to sit at the table and eat too?
Zhao Jingwan shuffled over reluctantly. Just as she was about to sit down, the man’s low voice rang out again.
“Eat standing.”
That’s more like it.
Saito was satisfied. He’d been with the boss for years and had never once eaten at the table. Even the mistresses by the boss’s side had never shared a dining table with him. What made this little thing so special?
Zhao Jingwan didn’t seem to mind. She picked up her utensils and started eating on her own.
Eat your fill, then you can run.
She took bite after bite without stopping, the steady rhythm of her chewing making Luo Jin lift his gaze. He saw the girl munching away with obvious relish.
He sneered inwardly.
She eats a lot, sure, but it’s all leaves. Is she a cow, grazing on grass?
Zhao Jingwan was a dance student and had always been strict about maintaining her figure. The dance academy she was applying to was notoriously demanding, and she’d been tightly controlling her weight before the entrance exams. She subconsciously rejected high-calorie foods.
That habit hadn’t changed yet.
Noticing the man’s gaze, she swallowed awkwardly, thinking he was annoyed that she was eating too much. She quickly set down her utensils.
“I’m full.”
Luo Jin crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, watching her. It was almost amusing.
Someone this spineless—he’d never met anyone like her before.
“Come here.”
She nervously wrung her hands, then took small steps toward him.
The man grabbed her wrist and pulled her onto his lap. Zhao Jingwan was forced to sit in his arms.
Luo Jin casually raised his arm and wrapped it around her from behind.
In his hand, he held half a photograph, which he brought up in front of her eyes.
Then he lowered his head and murmured by her ear.
“Do you recognize this?”