America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Chapter 42: Chapter 42 Driving People Mad

Atlanta, Decatur City.

At dinner, upon seeing the watery eyes of his third wife Eliza, Milton felt an inexplicable tightening in his chest, his lower back screeching, his manhood a pathetic slug.

He put down his knife and fork and said, "I'm going out for a bit, I have an appointment to discuss some business, I'll be back late."

Eliza's eyes dried up, staring blankly as her husband left, disappointment crawling over her cheeks.

Milton drove an Audi to the nearby Wild Forest Bar.

Whenever he felt bad or Eliza expressed some kind of need, he liked to come here for a drink and wait until late at night to go back home.

Milton pushed open the bar's door, went up to the counter, and said, "Hans, a whiskey, the usual."

Next to him, Bruce retracted his gaze, confirming the newcomer was indeed Milton.

He bragged to his new drinking buddy, "You ask me why I like this place? Because I always have good luck here, always meeting beautiful women."

He had come two nights in a row, finally waiting for Milton.

The drinking buddy didn't buy it, "Bullshit, I've never met anyone like that."

"Don't be a disbeliever!" Bruce described in detail, "How many years ago was it? A beautiful redhead, drinking alone here, I chatted her up, and she actually asked me out herself, saying her husband wasn't up to much."

The drinking buddy shook his head, "That kind of luck doesn't exist."

Bruce took a sip of his drink and continued, "Maybe you've seen her, she has a red mole on the left corner of her mouth."

The drinking buddy was a local, he paused, "I think I've seen her before."

Hearing about the mole on the corner of the mouth, Milton's eyes inadvertently turned towards Bruce.

Bold enough to joust with Englishmen using mortar shells, Bruce blatantly ignored, "Her name is Lina, she took me to a villa nearby. We enjoyed a romantic night in her bridal chamber, and after a few days, she actually called me up and asked to meet again at her house..."

The drinking buddy began to believe, "Did you guys do it again?"

Bruce laughed loudly, "She told me, 'when you get there, come in through the back door.'"

"You bastard!"

A sudden explosive shout interrupted the conversation as Milton, overcome with rage, could no longer contain himself, "Among those damned adulterers, there's also scum like you!"

He lunged at Bruce to hit him.

Bruce pushed Milton away, "Are you sick?"

Milton struggled to get up as Bruce casually brushed off his coat, "Don't move around recklessly."

The air of a civilized man calmed Milton.

Milton stopped struggling.

"Nutcase!" Bruce said with an unhappy face, clapped his hands, and walked towards the exit of the bar, but suddenly turned back, as if he had just realized, "I remember now, you are Lina's husband, I was with her right underneath your wedding photo."

Many in the bar had already guessed as much.

At this moment, all eyes fell on Milton.

Milton felt an indescribable complexity in his heart and swore never to visit this bar again.

Bruce left, occasionally looking back as he walked a distance away, then got into a car and drove out of Decatur City.

After a while, Milton walked out of the bar alone, a rage smoldering inside him.

Back in the Audi, just as he was about to start the ignition, he suddenly thought of his wife at home, and Milton's hand retracted again.

Going home would be torture.

He sat quietly in the car, closed his eyes and thought, "Can't they just obediently follow the will of the head of the family."

......

Late at night, the House of Beast Club closed, and the men and women who had hooked up left together.

The men who had struck out slowly left the scene.

Martin tidied up the bar and left work.

On the second floor of the club, Vincent tipped his cowboy hat and looked at Goldie's mouth, "What happened?"

Goldie touched his swollen lips, "These past few days Martin had me and Ivan whistle blowing, and I blew so hard that I swelled up my lips."

Vincent asked about what mattered, "How are things over there?"

"Lots of media and journalists have been showing up, and Martin's been speaking on behalf of the club all the time," Goldie reported everything he heard and saw, "To save the club's expenses, he pulled in sponsorship from the Freedom Association; they're taking care of all the provisions and drinks."

Vincent was quite satisfied; he hadn't misjudged Martin, "I got it, you can go back."

The usually silent Sophia suddenly spoke up, "A smart guy like Martin Davis can't be watched over by such dimwits."

"I know," Vincent pulled out a cigar, "As long as he brings me profits without harming my interests, do I need to deal with him?"

He lit his cigar, "Martin gave me a few ideas, I'm planning to open a hourly hotel and specialty store nearby. I believe the business won't be bad, I can do more accounts."

"Good idea, I support you," Sophia stood up, "I won't keep you, I didn't come over here to chat about these boring things, I'm going to meet my little darling."

Vincent, looking at Sophia's brawny figure, reminded him, "Don't break the guy."

Sophia turned his head back, the veins and muscles on his neck bulging, "I cherish him too much."

......

On West Strip, Martin got into his Ford and saw Bruce on the passenger seat, he asked, "Did you make any progress tonight?"

"He probably wants to kill me," Bruce gave a brief recount.

Martin admired, "Old Cloth, you're a genius."

"Can't compare to you, buddy, you have first-class skin, but it's filled with trash inside," Bruce asked, "Who did you learn from?"

Martin almost reflexively replied, "Jack Davis is the most talented man in Atlanta."

"Take that bullshit to someone else," Bruce didn't want to hear more, "A normal person would go crazy with the way you handle things, and he's even had two wives cheat on him."

Martin didn't need to make up pompous words, "I'm also considering the club's patronage, so I can earn a bit more for you. Don't you spend money when you buy a car? Or supporting Monica? Or buying lube..."

Bruce interrupted him, "You piece of stinking dog shit, shut up!"

Martin shrugged.

"Buddy, ever since I met you, I've come to realize I'm actually a good person," Bruce said.

"I'm also a good person. Don't argue with me, go ask Hart and Carrington, ask everyone in the club," Martin said.

Bruce knew the answer without asking.

A bunch of mama's boys.

The next morning, Martin called Buckley and arranged to meet at the usual place.

He and Bruce rushed over.

The Methodist Association's upcoming training event had extended invitations to many media outlets, and the Interstellar Report had received one too.

"We're friends, I won't put you in a difficult position, I'm just attending the press conference for free on your behalf," Martin said.

Buckley was very uncomfortable, "This... it isn't right."

Martin raised his hand, mimicking their first encounter by twirling his fingers, "I never let down a friend."

This time, without Martin's reminder, Bruce yanked his arm back to prove he was civilized in his dealings.

After two collaborations, one more didn't count for much, Buckley hesitated no longer, "I'll deliver the goods to you first thing tomorrow morning."