Chapter 203

The gentleman leaning on the cane went by the name Hoffman Francis. In the past, he shared a business venture with Vincent. But their clashing perspectives pushed Vincent to single-handedly remove him from the partnership list.

When the document regarding the port trade rights transfer surfaced, Vincent had sensed something,especially as Mason repeatedly glanced toward the second level. His instincts had warned him that Hoffman had orchestrated everything from the shadows.

Vincent cast a steely gaze at Hoffman. "It wasn't hard to speculate."

Hoffman burst into loud laughter."All these years, and your instincts remain razor-sharp."

Hoffman hobbled over to where Hannah was and suddenly turned violent, seizing her neck with an iron clutch.

A wave of suffocation overwhelmed Hannah. She resisted Hoffman's grasp, but the pressure never relented.

Vincent's brows drew together in fury as he crushed the impulse to charge forward and kill. His tone was like ice. "Still enjoy tormenting women, don't you?"

Hoffman gave a crooked grin, entertained by Vincent's fury. "What, already feeling protective?"

He loosened his grip on Hannah's throat.

Hannah gasped and grasped her throat, now scored with crimson bruises from his hand.

Hoffman gave a low laugh. "So the heartless Vincent finally has Achilles' Heel. What a surprise."

Initially skeptical when his men reported Vincent's profound feelings toward Hannah, Hoffman had staged Hannah's fake demise, watching Vincent writhe in anguish for days until he finally believed Vincent had a fundamental weakness. Just now, he provoked once more, and although Vincent seemed unbothered, a flicker of murderous rage betrayed him. Capturing this woman was indeed a calculated triumph. Hannah remained calm inside, knowing that Vincent would rescue her not from affection, but out of obligation, since she had fallen into danger because of him. She lowered her face, her eyes flicking discreetly toward the nearby guards.

Vincent's stare drifted coldly from Hannah over to Hoffman. His voice cut like frost. "Whose weakness would be an ex-wife?"

With backup still distant, Vincent knew he needed to prolong the conversation and buy some time. "You've gone to great lengths to lure me here, not just for the port in Agosphia, right?" he asked plainly.

Hoffman laughed. "I appreciate dealing with sharp minds. Let's not waste words. This isn't merely about the port in Agosphia-I want to revive the partnership we abandoned."

Vincent's expression darkened. "What if I decline?"

Hoffman chuckled lowly. "Then all you'll carry home is your bride's corpse. Blood on a wedding gown-it paints such a chilling image." His face contorted into something cruel.

Vincent's demeanor grew heavier. "If this is a deal, act like it." He gestured toward Hannah. "I'll remain, but she leaves."

Hoffman paused briefly and then gave a direct answer. "Fine, though-one term applies."

He withdrew a pistol from his coat. "Since we're settling terms, let's balance our accounts." He pointed to his leg. "That fracture you gave me-my right leg-surely you haven't forgotten?"

Vincent's face hardened.

Hoffman squeezed the trigger. "To make this alliance smoother, I'll spare you the pain, Mr. Jones. But the price of that injury, your woman will repay it. That's only just."

He finished speaking and aimed the weapon at Hannah's leg.

Hannah clenched her gown, chilled sweat dotting her brow.

"Stop!" Vincent vaulted across the table, forcing Hoffman's gun hand upward toward the ceiling. The guards moved fast to encircle them, but Hoffman raised a hand, signaling them to wait. "Getting protective again, Mr. Jones? Didn't you claim she wasn't your weakness?" Hoffman tucked the weapon away with a knowing look, like he'd expected interference.

Vincent's lips curved faintly, but his stare was ice. "Weakness? No. I just have a principle-I can't stand to see awoman bleed."

Hoffman gave a throaty laugh and slid the pistol across the table toward Vincent. "Then you'll have to take this wound yourself, Mr. Jones."

Hannah sprang up from her seat and raised her voice. "Vincent! Don't listen to him."

But a bodyguard promptly stifled hercry.

Vincent lowered his lashes and took the weapon. His fingers curled around it as he pointed it at Hoffman's forehead.

In a flash, the guards drew their guns and locked onto Vincent.

"Mr. Jones, what's your move?" Hoffman's brow lifted. "If I die here, you and your beloved will join me in the afterlife."