A Nobody to a Trillionaire: The $100 Trillion Vault Changed Everything-Chapter 30: Mrs Jackson’s dirty Move

Kieran and his crew stepped inside.

And at the same time, the captain’s team marched closer as well. Mrs Jackson had seen who the leader on the opposition was, but as though he meant nothing whatsoever, she stayed calm. Wasn’t she supposed to give some reactions now that Kieran Holland of all people had revealed her cover?

This made Kieran frown in astonishment as well. But whatever she might be on or would soon be, he was here on the plan. The one he thought of as soon as the lady left the penthouse, ordering two of his bodyguards to first stalk her to wherever she was headed...

And while they were on that, he immediately regrouped the gang for nothing but to convince Mrs Jackson to stop. That was what he was here for – not for a bloody fight.

It won’t go that easily, but he wished it did.

As the two factions were just some metres away from each other, they all halted. Catching recognition of Kieran, the captain shook his head and glanced back at Aria. He mumbled, "Can’t believe they followed you here without you noticing. The years must have made you less competent."

Aria didn’t even look at him, nor at anyone. But deep down, a flower of hope had blossomed in her, seeing these newcomers, that they might be able to get her friends out of here.

Eve couldn’t look Aria in the eye either – she was just about to kill her dear friend. What stupid force must have made her do that?

Kieran stepped much closer to the captain, even though the rapist tried to hold him back.

He asked, "May I have a word with her?"

"For what?" the captain grunted, glaring into his eyes. freёweɓnovel.com

But before Kieran could reply, Mrs Jackson’s voice echoed down the hall. She had smirked first before saying, "How audacious of you to have come here."

Kieran tilted his head, then walked past the captain. The woman wasn’t even looking at him when he had got closer to her chair.

Mrs Jackson exhaled aloud, asking, "Now that you’re here..." she turned her glance at him, a teasing smile dancing around her lips, "... what do you intend to do? Don’t tell me the one sight of her you saw has made you fall head over..."

"Of course not, Mrs Jackson," Kieran cut in, his tone strong. He smirked too, matching her level of arrogance. "That’s absolutely not why I am here..."

"Then, what is it?" Mrs Jackson cut in.

Kieran didn’t reply first as he paced forward and sat on the other iron chair opposite hers, with the three friends still shrouded in the middle. He clasped his palms together on his thighs, crossed his legs, and cleared his throat.

Mrs Jackson straightened her back as well – she had for a moment forgotten how arrogant the Hollands are, almost thinking he was here without his ego.

"Guess you’re not a bastard child then," Mrs Jackson remarked, sipping a wine placed on the sturdy table beside her.

"... You tried to kill me, Mrs Jackson," Kieran said, his tone neither too tight nor too loose.

The woman moved her finger here and there in the air in declination...

"No, she almost did. And thanks to her incompetency, you’re here again to spout the same nonsense like your father because of your generation’s non-stop ego."

A slight smile spread across Kieran’s face for a moment as he went silent, staring at his thigh. Then, he started nodding his head nonstop until he said,

"Maybe." He then stared up. "I’m not sure if killing each other for power and wealth is another thing in business, but—"

"Yes, it is," Mrs Jackson cut in, her tone unforgiving. Kieran tilted his head upon hearing that. The warehouse fell quiet, save for the gentle clatter of metal as some guys jogged the ground with their weapons, and also the crackling of coal. Mrs Jackson took another sip of the wine, which had a side taste of vanilla, before saying, "And no, it isn’t."

Kieran chuckled. "What are you on about?"

"Business, as the common civilians see it, is only about importing stocks and selling them. But they have no idea of the things that play underground for those products to reach the public. We shareholders bet our lifetime earnings on the production of new materials, and the Evaluation Board says we would profit from it.

Yet that’s uncertain. At this point when you’re about to lose your money, maybe the customs stop the cargo or anything, what else but forsaking morality is next? Kill for your money, fight for it, bribe for it... or watch the products get delayed and rot in the cargo ships...."

Mrs Jackson sighed.

Kieran asked, "So, all this is for money?"

"Perhaps. But don’t get me wrong – I have a better reason for dealing with you," she declared, as though this were a fun game. Kieran even scoffed in disbelief. She continued, "Blame yourself for being born into the Holland family. You aren’t at the centre of the wildfire, but just a... scapegoat."

Kieran inhaled sharply, resting back on the chair. He held his stare at the woman for moments, wondering what gave her such assurance she was safe saying all this out. Does she have a back-up in the police sector or the law firm that she wasn’t afraid of prosecution? At this point, he wasn’t even sure if any threat would work on her.

He inhaled again.

"Is this why you’re back at the company?" he asked.

The woman shrugged.

Right at that moment, Kieran heard the rapist shout, "Come on, boss! Don’t tell me you’re ready to listen to that foolish hag’s rants."

Immediately, a guy from the other crew yelled at him, "... Watch your mouth, you monkey-faced SOB! Who do you think you are?"

Kieran shook his head – he knew for sure the man wasn’t going to take that. His facials of all things... no.

And yes, the rage was evident on his face immediately... his monkey-like one, or maybe that’s wrong. Maybe angel-like... face.

"What? Me?!" the man grunted. He chuckled dryly. "Ah... this bastard must be kidding me. Do you know how many bitches chased after me for this?"

The other guy neared him, relentless. "Monkeys get monkey bitches too."

"You worthless SOB!"

Just as the men were about to rush into each other, the captain grabbed his teammate by the collar and thrashed his body backwards into the ground. Even the rapist was surprised at why he did that. But no matter what, the captain maintained his calm posture, hands pocketed. He warned the teammate as soon as he got back to his feet,

"The madam isn’t done talking yet."

The guy bowed, apologising, "I’m sorry, Captain."

After staring their way for some moments, Mrs Jackson sighed and looked back at Kieran, whose eyes stayed on her with intent, arms crossed.

She turned on her phone and showed the screen to him. His eyes widened reading what was on it, his arms dropping from each other. On the screen was a map on which an indicator tagged "Zyn" was displayed.

Kieran groaned, "What are you doing?"

Mrs Jackson turned the phone off. "If you want to kill me here, do it. But know the life of your friend is going for it too. Who knows? She might have been stopped by the traffic on a multi-directional junction with a large truck directly facing her." She grinned. "The truck might lose its way any time."

Kieran clenched his jaw and immediately pulled out his phone. He called Zyn three times before she picked up the call. He could hear the revving of cars from the phone, and with every passing second, his chest tightened.

"Where are you right now?!" Kieran roared.

Zyn stayed silent whatsoever, as though wondering what this was all about. On a junction bath in the bright light of tall streetlights was her pink Koessinghe. And as a matter of fact, a black truck was opposite her on the other side of the road. A man in a black jacket, gloves, face cap and mask clasped his head loosely around the wheel of the truck, an earbud stuck in his ears to receive orders.

Kieran shouted again, "Where the fuck are you, Zyn?!"

Zyn replied, "What’s your business with where I am? Come on, you aren’t my mother or anything. Relax."

"Get..." Before Kieran could complete that statement, the disconnecting tone played in his ears – Zyn had hung up. He didn’t try calling again, but instead, he looked at Mrs Jackson. He sighed, moving his palm across his forehead.

Then he leaned forward on the chair, his fingers intertwined and ankles boring into his thighs. He warned, his tone low and piercing, "Listen to me, Mrs Jackson.

I’m not going to beg you not to do it or try to stop you, but if you dare lay a hand on her out there..." he pointed left, making a reference with it, then shook his head, "... no one is getting out of here alive. I will kill all of you. Every single one of you will not live to see the next sunlight."

The warehouse fell dead silent, eyes stuck on Kieran. Yet, that frankness was not off his face. One could tell from a glance he meant what he said, his brows not knitted in anger... but it was as though they were. His eyes? The warmth there was gone.

Mrs Jackson said nothing, clearly playing tough, but her chest tightened more and more as she maintained eye contact with Kieran. Finally, she turned her glance away and cleared her throat.

She said, "If you stay out of my way, then I promise not to meddle in your business either."

Kieran smirked. "Your way?"

"Yes," Mrs Jackson responded, staring back at him. "The empire... I have come to take it."

----

A/N: Thanks for reading! Don’t forget to check author’s note!