Rebella, busy picking out pro protective gear for two boxers, looked up and froze when she saw Jason Luo. Her expression grew complicated.
Jason Luo felt a headache coming on. After a few awkward seconds of eye contact, Rebella shifted her gaze to the two women behind him.
Grace recognized the woman faintly from the preliminary auditions on the sandy beach. Seeing the familiarity, Catherine assumed Rebella was someone close to Jason and hurried forward with a smile. "Jason, who's this?"
Before Jason could answer, Rebella gave Catherine a curt once-over and blurted, "Lucky bastard—already got a girlfriend? I should warn this young lady, though: your boyfriend here might have some issues with, uh, his preferences..." She then shot Jason a contemptuous look and started to leave.
Jason couldn't stand the insinuation. Catherine's expression toward him had already shifted. More importantly, Jason suddenly remembered something he needed to confirm.
"Madam, please wait. I have something important to ask you privately."
"Oh?" Rebella paused and turned slowly. "A private conversation?" She glanced pointedly at Catherine and Grace, then smiled. "Alright. I hear things are going well for you lately. I'll give you a chance. This isn't the place—let's go to a café and talk properly." Her emphasis on "properly" and the way she looked at the two women made her meaning clear.
Catherine sensed the tension but didn't understand the full context and hesitated to intervene. She looked to Grace for guidance, but Grace was equally clueless and only shook her head.
In the end both women watched Jason. He felt thoroughly uncomfortable—dealing with women's suspicions was a pain. Best to put that aside and deal with the urgent matter first.
"Madam, no need to make a fuss. Just step aside for a moment. It'll only take a few words."
Rebella, assuming Jason was about to ally with her, felt pleased. "Fine. I'll indulge you."
They stepped to a corner of the shop. Rebella crossed her arms. "Talk. I hear you've been doing well. I can meet most reasonable demands. Why didn't you come to me sooner?"
Jason froze—what did she think this was about? "Madam, please don't misunderstand. I only need your confirmation on one point."
"We had some misunderstandings and small disputes earlier. If you want revenge, come after me directly. But if you ever threaten my family's safety or hurt them again, I won't let you off."
This time Rebella was taken aback. "Revenge? Your family? What are you talking about? Explain yourself clearly!"
"What? That little gangster Jeff—wasn't he sent by you? And those two underground fighters—are you saying you had nothing to do with them?"
"What nonsense is that? You punk, I'm warning you—this is America. False accusations will cost you. Besides, don't flatter yourself—why would I go so far over you?"
They traded heated lines. From a distance Catherine and Grace could only catch fragments—words like "cost" and "price" floated through.
After the argument, Jason thought it through carefully. It seemed quite likely Rebella wasn't behind this. Her reaction made sense: there was no deep hatred between them that would drive her to orchestrate something so elaborate.
If Rebella was innocent, only one person fit both motive and capability—Tutkason.
Realizing his mistake, Jason felt embarrassed. "Madam, if you really had nothing to do with this, then I'm wrong. I apologize—truly, I'm sorry."
Rebella actually felt a little uneasy. She hadn't used outright violence, only tricks—and those hadn't worked. "Fine. Keep your apology. It doesn't convince me. I don't have time for this. Are you coming to my company or not?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that."
Rebella's interest evaporated. "Good kid. Best you never cross paths with me again." She spun on her heel and walked away, two bodyguards falling in step behind her.
Jason watched her retreat, thinking. It was now nearly certain Tutkason had been targeting him all along. That made things worse—the gap between them was huge, and their enmity ran deep. If this continued...
After Rebella left, Jason must have looked distraught, because Catherine exploded. She strode up. "Of course! No wonder you were ignoring me. So… so you like older women! You have some seriously twisted taste!"
Jason recoiled at the accusation. "Catherine, we're friends. Show me some respect—Grace's right here. Do I really look like that kind of person?"
"Then tell us what kind of person she is!"
Unable to take the girls' wild assumptions, Jason laid out the whole feud with Rebella—his analysis, his suspicions, everything.
Catherine stuck her tongue out playfully, then looped her arm through his. "That annoying old woman caused the whole misunderstanding. Don't be mad at me, okay?"
Grace hurried to defend him. "Brother, I never doubted you…"
Finally, Jason had the upper hand.
"Grace, you're the only one who really understands me—unlike some busty, empty-headed types!"
Catherine didn't take offense. "Hmph. Big breasts and no brains? To men, those're both advantages. Thanks for the compliment."
Jason wanted to argue, but had to admit there was some truth to it.
Catherine smoothly shifted the topic. "So you've identified Tutkason as the prime suspect. What now?"
Jason managed a wry smile. "He's got money and connections. What can I do? But if he dares harm my family, I'll find him—no matter where he hides."
Catherine's brow knit. "You're out in the open while he works from the shadows. This is a terrible position for you. You need to confront him directly—or at least make him feel threatened—or he'll only escalate."
Jason nodded. "You're right, but I don't even know how to find him. I have no contact info. How can I warn him?"
Catherine smiled. "What you can't do, this lady can. Handsome, if you play your part for the next couple of days, I'll dig up every trace of Tutkason I can find. Deal?"
Jason was stunned. "You can do that? Miss—does your dad work for the CIA or something?"
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser