Chapter 393 An Unreachable Distance
The internet café was a madhouse, and the smoke was thick enough to choke a horse.
A middle-aged dude with some gray creeping into his hair coughed as he stepped out. He was about to light up a cig when he spotted a car parked up ahead.
As he walked out, the car window slid down, and the driver, Landon, gave him a blank stare.
Stanley recognized the guy from the day he was released from prison, when he saw him chatting with some officials. The dude had an air of importance and a cold vibe. Back then, when Stanley was lugging his bags out of prison, this guy had given him a sharp look. Stanley didn't know him, but he could tell the look was meant for him.
This was the second time he saw him. The car was parked across the street, and the guy gave him another icy stare. Stanley stood there for a while, cig in hand, then suddenly turned and walked away.
But five minutes later, he got into that car.
And was taken away.
During the ride, Stanley didn't freak out or anything. He calmly asked, "Who are you? Where are we going?"
Landon stayed silent the whole time, only saying coldly before they got in the car, "Come with me, my boss wants to see you."
Boss.
That word had some serious weight to it.
Stanley had been locked up for years, and he had no idea what kind of mess he could be in now. He definitely didn't have the clout to piss off anyone big. But the driver's cold, almost robotic stare had him puzzled.
They ended up at a fancy estate in a swanky part of Xyleria. It was evening, and the air was getting chilly. Landon led the way, and Stanley, wrapped in his old but clean coat, followed, checking out the place. It was clear this was a spot for the rich, which only made him more curious.
He saw a few people playing golf on the estate's course, and a couple more chilling in a rest area, sipping tea and chatting. From their clothes to the surroundings, it was obvious they were big shots in the city.
Being loaded must be nice.
Compared to his own situation.
Stanley's cautious mind started to waver.
"Mr. Harriman, you came all the way here, why not play a few rounds? I heard from the execs who came to sign the contract that you weren't feeling well last month and rarely went to the office. Feeling better now?"
"Just a minor thing, it gave me an excuse to dodge a lot of social stuff and stay home." Gabriel sat in the rest area, sipping tea, his iron-gray coat draped over the back of the chair. He looked a bit lazy, like someone recovering from a serious illness.
Landon walked up, "Mr. Harriman, the guy's here."
Stanley stood behind, eyeing the young man lounging in the wicker chair.
What kind of guy was this? Just getting close, you could tell that even though he was smiling, he was actually ice-cold.
It was the vibe of someone who's been top dog for ages, like it was in his DNA, making everyone else feel like they were miles beneath him.
Gabriel glanced their way, his eyes landing on Stanley's wary face.
That look was blank, but there was a chill and a depth to it that was hard to read.
"Oh, Mr. Harriman's got company. I'll leave you to it and hit the course." The guy in his thirties who'd been chatting with Gabriel grinned and grabbed his golf gear.
Stanley's eyes flicked to the golf course in the distance, then back to Mr. Harriman.
Gabriel got up and headed to a nearby private tea room. Landon motioned for Stanley to follow. Stanley, still confused, took a few steps and finally asked again, "Who the heck are you guys?"
Landon, about to step into the tea room, turned and gave him a look, "People who'll make you rich."
The tea room was decked out with plush sofas, coffee tables, and all sorts of fancy decorations, screaming money.
Stanley felt a bit out of it. He hadn't made much as a professor, and after everything went down, his family was wrecked. Now, even his son was locked up. Since getting out, he had no income, living off the scraps in his old salary account, which were almost gone. He hadn't even had a bowl of instant noodles since morning.
Gabriel was already lounging on the sofa, casually tossing his coat with dark silver cufflinks aside. He noticed Stanley's awkwardness and said, "Stanley? Professor at Xyleria Dance Academy?"
Stanley eyed the high-end fruit on the table, discreetly licking his lips, and cautiously replied, "Yeah, that's me. And you are...?"
Gabriel heard his formal, academic tone and didn't react, just gave a casual smile.
Stanley was sizing him up, trying to figure out what this guy, who oozed nobility and coldness, was all about.
Because the dude with the fake smile gave off a serious sense of danger and chill.
Until Gabriel said lightly, "Sit."
"I'd rather not."
Gabriel, still looking indifferent, didn't push, "Scared of me?"
Stanley didn't answer, but his wariness only grew, his chest tightening with tension.
"Mr. Rogers, with all this security, how are we supposed to do business?"
"What business?"
"Do you know Jessica?"
The room fell into an awkward silence, Stanley's guard went up another notch, almost wanting to back away, but he stood stiffly instead.
Gabriel got up and walked over. Stanley, feeling an inexplicable intimidation from Gabriel's natural coldness, watched him casually pull out a gold card.
"Mr. Rogers, with all this security, I'll cut to the chase."
"Go ahead."
"Jessica's been in the entertainment biz for years, making deep connections with various big shots. Her two movies, one released and one in the works, have raked in major bucks for my rival's company. She's now a key player for different powerhouses in the film industry."
