Seeing Dragan's trembling form, the man in front of him asked in a gentle, hushed tone.
"It seems the relationship between you and your nephew isn't quite as good as you claimed?"
Hearing this, Dragan shook his head frantically, plastering a fawning smile onto his face without even realizing it.
"He's just a kid, what does he know? Next time! Next time I can definitely convince him."
Listening to Dragan's contradictory statements, Wesley simply shook his head calmly.
He wouldn't waste another word on a junkie whose brain was already fried, if not for the fact that he still had some utility.
Well, actually, he didn't want to waste any more words right now either.
Pushing the car door open, Wesley signaled to two suited subordinates standing guard outside.
"Take him away. Don't let him run off."
Hearing this, Dragan seemed to realize something. His mind cleared up significantly in an instant. While struggling against the men dragging him away, he clawed at the car door and begged loudly:
"Wesley!! Trust me, give me one more chance! I can definitely convince the kid!"
"Once I take over the company, I'll pay back every cent I owe you!"
"Double! No, triple! I'll pay you back triple!"
But Wesley completely ignored Dragan's pleas. After glancing at Dragan's urine-soaked trousers with disgust, he added another order.
"Change his pants and clean him up!"
With that, he ignored Dragan being dragged away, shivering. Wesley took out a handkerchief to cover his nose before pulling out his phone and dialing.
"Boss!"
"How did it go?"
The voice on the other end was deeply resonant and male.
Wesley instinctively lowered the handkerchief, adjusted his collar, and sat up straight before answering respectfully.
"Dragan screwed up. We lost one man. But we recovered the body, so there shouldn't be any trace leading back to us for now."
The silence on the other end persisted. Wesley hesitated for a moment, then added:
"I'll contact his mother's attending physicians next. I'll have them delay the final diagnosis and state that her condition might improve. That should postpone the inheritance proceedings and the board meeting."
This time, the person on the other end finally spoke again, his voice devoid of emotion.
"Do as you see fit."
After a pause, the man continued.
"I received news that someone on the Upper East Side has already reached an agreement with the government to participate in the alien salvage operation."
"Policy could change at any moment. We need to secure Midtown as soon as possible."
Hearing the dial tone, Wesley let out a soft breath.
He wiped his phone screen gently before putting it back in his pocket.
Then, glancing at the seat Dragan had occupied, he frowned and ordered coldly:
"To the car wash!"
The car started and drove smoothly away.
Meanwhile, in another car.
Luca was also listening to Shamila's report.
"So my dear uncle really found himself a capable backer?"
Running his fingers over his newly attached mechanical prosthetic, Luca quietly pondered Shamila's account.
"Master Luca, dispatching six gunmen at once indicates a highly organized group."
"I suggest that while we investigate Dragan's recent contacts, we also strengthen your security team."
Although Shamila was confident she could handle six gunmen—or even double that number—in a frontal confrontation...
Killing enemies and protecting someone were two different things. And she couldn't guarantee she would be by Luca's side 24/7.
Now that they knew someone was watching from the shadows, they had to take precautions.
Luca had no objections. He didn't think a few special items made him invincible. Expanding his security detail was undoubtedly a wise choice.
However, using the company's security forces would be tricky right now.
"Does Auntie Shamila have any recommendations?"
Luca was thinking of spending some money to hire a private security firm temporarily.
Although the company funds were frozen, the family had plenty of assets in other funds and investments.
Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Shamila hesitated and whispered.
"Actually..."
Seeing Shamila's reluctance, Luca was puzzled but signaled for her to continue.
"Actually, the Madam has a private combat squad under her command. Not many people, but all elites."
Seeing Luca's confused expression in the rearview mirror, she explained further.
"Nominally, this squad consists of weapons testers for the company. They also take on occasional mercenary contracts overseas."
"Nominally?" Shamila's phrasing piqued Luca's curiosity.
"Yes. It's mainly for equipment acquisition and operational convenience."
"Um... In fact, usually, when the Madam has... inconvenient problems, she sends them to handle it."
"Hiss..."
Although Shamila was being vague, Luca understood perfectly.
Good lord! An assassination squad? Is corporate warfare for arms dealers really this intense?!
He hadn't expected that his mother—gentle and caring at home, a strong businesswoman in public—commanded such a force in secret.
But then again, considering the ruthless style of American capitalism, Luca felt maybe he was just being naive.
"Are they trustworthy?"
It was a somewhat redundant question.
Anyone doing the Aurantius family's dirty work had to be trustworthy as a baseline requirement.
But the situation was special. Whether due to his age or his lack of familiarity with the squad, Luca needed to confirm everything explicitly to feel safe.
If they looked down on him as a young master or had other ideas...
Recalling them to protect him would be inviting wolves into the house.
However, Shamila answered firmly.
"Please rest assured, Master! Every member of this squad is a veteran from the battlefields of Sokovia!"
Hearing the name "Sokovia," Luca felt slightly more reassured.
As for why soldiers from Sokovia were trustworthy, it went back to the origins of the Aurantius family.
Neither of Luca's parents came from traditional American backgrounds.
Based on what Shamila had said recently and the pieced-together memories of the original host:
Luca's father, the late Hermann Von, had a relatively simple background. He was of mixed Chinese and Italian descent, with both sides being immigrants from several generations back.
In traditional terms, Hermann had "married into" the Aurantius family.
In contrast, his mother, Gina Aurantius, had a much more complicated background.