"My God, you're William Devonshire, the hereditary Duke of England, with a net worth of over $30 billion, the world's richest and most handsome eligible bachelor. Can't I fall in love with you at first sight?" Jesse pouted, looking at William tenderly. "Maybe we could go to your room for coffee and talk more. Who knows, you might just feel the same way I do."
Seeing Jesse's seductive expression, William's heart skipped a beat involuntarily, racing for a few seconds before he snapped out of it. Feigning disinterest, he said regretfully, "Good Lord, do you even realize how fake your expression looks right now?"
"Does it?" Jesse asked, frustrated, staring at William. "Not even a little spark of excitement?"
Clearing his throat, William took a sip of his drink to suppress his inner stirrings before continuing, "Your expression is too forced, your voice lacks any emotion, and most importantly, you have a terrible partner."
"What?" Jesse turned her head to scan the surroundings, muttering irritably, "If it's about my background, I can leave if you want."
"Alright, alright, Jesse." William raised a finger, signaling for her to lower her voice since they were in a restaurant. Then, with a playful grin, he added, "You probably don't know this, but that idiot in the leather jacket outside the restaurant, with a revolver tucked into his waistband, has been wildly waving his arms three times since you sat next to me. He has stared at us sixteen times and muttered to himself, 'Jesse, Jesse, you're the best. We're going to hit the jackpot,' at least five times."
"Damn it," Jesse exclaimed, realizing they'd been exposed. She looked toward the restaurant window, glaring at her overly conspicuous partner. Propping her hands on the table, she clutched her hair in frustration and groaned, "Oh my God, that idiot even waved at me."
William shrugged, slipping his wallet into a secure storage space before lying, "You might not know this, but I never carry cash or a wallet. I handle all transactions electronically. And if you even think about making a dangerous move against me, twelve elite members of England's Special Air Service will immediately show you and your partner the meaning of disproportionate retaliation."
"Really?" Jesse asked, clearly unnerved, glancing around anxiously but failing to spot anything unusual. "You're just trying to scare me, aren't you?"
"Good Lord, you've defeated me, dear Jesse. If you could spot them, they wouldn't be elite, now, would they?" William said with a sly grin. Of course, there were no Special Forces operatives nearby, but there were hundreds of spider-shaped robotic drones ready for action.
Grabbing Jesse's hand, he added, "If you don't believe me, just watch your idiot partner."
As William held her hand, Jesse struggled slightly to break free but couldn't. Blushing faintly, she turned her gaze toward her partner, observing him for a few seconds. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she yanked her hand away, pouted, and glared at William. "Jerk! You're messing with me again."
"Apologies," William said, laughing heartily at Jesse's reaction. "I forgot to tell you—you'll need to snap your fingers."
"If you're lying to me again, I swear I'll pounce on you and beat you up," Jesse threatened. Before William could stop her, she snapped her fingers.
To Jesse's shock, her partner outside began trembling uncontrollably, his body convulsing as if he were experiencing a seizure. Clutching William's hand in panic, she cried out, "Stop it! Stop it, please!"
Sensing Jesse's genuine distress, William chuckled. "Just snap your fingers again."
With a sharp "snap," Jesse's partner abruptly froze for a second before collapsing to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Jesse instinctively moved to stand up and rush to her partner's aid, but William tugged her back into her seat. "Relax. He's fine."
Gesturing to the restaurant manager, Kyle Grammer, who had been standing nearby, William called out, "Take the gentleman outside to a hospital. I'll cover the costs. And let him know that if he even thinks about suing me, he should prepare to hire a very good lawyer. Because I guarantee that the twelve senior attorneys from Webster & Moore will be delighted to spend my money dragging the case out for years."
"Understood, sir," Kyle Grammer replied with a cheerful nod. He knew all too well that trying to sue someone like William Devonshire required solid evidence and deep pockets. In a country like the USA, where the legal system favored the wealthy, legal battles could easily bankrupt a middle-class family. Judging by the type of person outside, Kyle doubted the man would even dare to involve the authorities.
Smiling confidently, Kyle assured William, "Don't worry, Mr. Devonshire. This is the kind of situation our restaurant can handle ourselves."
"Good. I like you, Kyle. Your tip today is 30%," William said with a hearty laugh.
Meanwhile, Jesse's partner outside shakily got to his feet, much to Jesse's relief. However, her relief was quickly replaced by anger as she realized her partner had fled without even checking on her. Frustrated, she took a large sip of red wine and turned to William. "Can you let go of my hand now, Mr. Devonshire?"
"My apologies," William said, releasing her hand. With a chuckle, he added, "Has no one ever told you? Never target someone surrounded by bodyguards."
"I'm self-taught," Jesse replied indignantly, glaring at William. "And how was I supposed to know that a golden goose like you wouldn't carry a wallet?"
"Your judgment, Jesse. Your judgment is absolutely terrible." William turned his attention to the table next to theirs, where a quiet man had been eating and sipping red wine. "How about I help you find someone to give you a proper training session?"
Following William's gaze, Jesse looked at the man he was referring to. After just one glance, she whispered skeptically, "You're kidding, right? That guy looks like a total softie."
"Softie? Now you're the one joking," William replied, rolling his eyes.
Tapping his phone, William pulled up a small holographic profile of the man. "Nis Spurgi. Grandson of Lem, the kingpin of pickpockets in the Upper East Side. His foster father is Bucky Spurgi. If you'd like, I can call Abram Tarasov. After all, every pickpocket in New York works under Abram Tarasov."
"No, no, no," Nis Spurgi suddenly interjected, having overheard the conversation. He hurried over to William's table, pulling out a chair but hesitating to sit when he saw William glance at him. Standing respectfully, he pleaded in a low voice, "Mr. Devonshire, please, I beg you, don't call Mr. Tarasov. If he finds out about me, I won't be able to survive in New York."
"Sit down," William said, gesturing to a chair. Turning to Jesse, who looked incredulous, William asked Nis, "Would you be willing to give this rookie some training?"
"I'm not a rookie!" Jesse protested, immediately defensive. "I've been doing this for three years. I'm no amateur. And who's Abram Tarasov, anyway?"
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Fairy Tail: Igneel's Eldest Son (Chapter 256)
I Am Thalos, Odin's Older Brother (Chapter 336)
Reborn in America's Anti-Terror Unit (Chapter 542)
Solomon in Marvel (Chapter 924)
Becoming the Wealthiest Tycoon on the Planet (Chapter 1284)
Surgical Fruit in the American Comics Universe (Chapter 1289)
American Detective: From TV Rookie to Seasoned Cop (Chapter 1316)
American TV Writer (Chapter 1402)
I Am Hades, The Supreme GOD of the Underworld! (Chapter 570)
Reborn as Humanity's Emperor Across the Multiverse (Chapter 660)
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