Chapter 19: The Assassination Squad

Watching Dragan tremble uncontrollably, the man before him spoke softly in a gentle tone.

“It seems your relationship with your nephew isn’t as good as you claim, is it?”

Hearing this, Dragan quickly shook his head, a sycophantic smile spreading across his face—one he hadn’t even realized he wore.

“He’s just a kid, what would he understand? Next time! Next time, I’ll definitely convince him.”

Wesley merely shook his head calmly at the contradictory words. A man whose mind had been so thoroughly corrupted was only worth talking to if there was some use to be had. Otherwise, he wouldn’t waste a word.

Well, truth be told, Wesley no longer wished to waste time. He casually pushed open the car door and called to the two suited men waiting outside.

“Take him down. Don’t let him run off!”

As if suddenly realizing the gravity of the situation, Dragan’s mind cleared somewhat. Struggling against the black-clad men dragging him, he clung to the car door and pleaded loudly.

“Wesley! Trust me, just give me one more chance! I’ll definitely convince the boy!”

“As soon as I take over the company, I swear I’ll pay back the money I owe you!”

“Double! No, triple! I’ll pay you back three times over!”

But Wesley paid no heed to Dragan’s desperate pleas. After his gaze swept over Dragan’s sodden trousers, his expression twisted with disgust as he gave another order.

“Get him a fresh pair of pants and clean him up!”

Without waiting for a response, Wesley pulled a handkerchief to his nose, then took out his phone and made a call.

“Boss.”

“How’s it going?”

On the other end came a deep male voice, low and steady.

Wesley instinctively lowered the handkerchief, straightened his collar, and replied respectfully.

“Dragan screwed up. We lost one man. But the body wasn’t left behind, so there should be no trace of us for now.”

There was silence on the other side. Wesley hesitated, then added,

“I’ll first contact the attending doctor of Dragan’s mother. We’ll delay the issuance of her diagnosis, make it appear as if her condition might improve. That should buy us time to postpone the inheritance and the board’s convening.”

This time, the voice at the other end finally spoke again, emotionless.

“Do as you see fit.”

After a brief pause, the man continued with instructions.

“I’ve received word that someone in the Upper East District has already reached an agreement with the government to participate in the alien wreckage recovery.”

“Policies could change at any time. We must wrap things up quickly here in the Central District.”

Hearing the beeping on the other end, Wesley finally exhaled softly, wiped the phone screen, and slipped it into his pocket.

Then, glancing at the seat Dragan had occupied, his brows furrowed. His tone turned icy as he commanded,

“Take it to the car wash!”

The car started smoothly and rolled away into the distance.

Meanwhile, in the same vehicle, Luka listened to Samira’s report.

“Looks like my uncle really did find some powerful backing,” Luka mused, touching the mechanical prosthetic he had just fitted, pondering Samira’s account.

“Master Luka, they sent six gunmen at once. Clearly, this is an organized group.”

“I suggest that while investigating who Dragan has recently been in contact with, you should also strengthen your security detail.”

Though Samira believed she could easily handle six armed enemies herself—and even double that number—she knew that wiping out enemies and protecting allies were not the same. She couldn’t guarantee she’d always be by Luka’s side.

Since they now knew someone was watching from the shadows, it was prudent to prepare in advance.

Luka had no objections. He understood that just because he had special gadgets didn’t mean he could handle every crisis. Expanding the security team was undoubtedly wise.

However, Luka faced difficulties in mobilizing the company’s security forces at present.

“Samira, do you have any suitable people to recommend?”

Actually, he hoped to spend some money hiring a temporary private security firm.

Though company funds were off-limits, other family funds and investments provided plenty of resources.

To Luka’s surprise, Samira hesitated slightly before softly replying,

“Well... actually...”

Seeing her hesitant demeanor, Luka gestured for her to continue.

“There is a private ops team under Madam’s command. Not large in number, but all elite.”

Noticing Luka’s puzzled look in the rearview mirror, she elaborated,

“Officially, they're company weapons testers, but they often take on odd mercenary jobs overseas.”

“Officially?” Samira’s words piqued Luka’s curiosity.

“Yes, mainly so they can get equipment and move freely.”

“In fact, when Madam has delicate matters... she sends them to handle it.”

Though Samira spoke vaguely, Luka understood perfectly.

‘Good heavens! An assassination squad? Is corporate warfare among arms dealers really this intense?’

He hadn’t expected the gentle, caring mother from his original memories—the strong career woman at work—secretly commanded such a force.

But thinking about American capitalist practices, Luka figured maybe he was just overreacting.

“Can they be trusted?”

Though a seemingly redundant question, anyone entrusted with the family’s dirty work should be trustworthy by default.

Still, given the unusual circumstances and his youth, Luka needed to confirm everything openly before feeling secure.

If they looked down on him, the young heir, and harbored ulterior motives, summoning them for protection would be inviting wolves into the fold.

But Samira’s reply was firm.

“Rest assured, Master. All team members are veterans from the Sokovia battlefield.”

Hearing “Sokovia” put Luka somewhat at ease.

Why Sokovian soldiers were so trusted was tied to the origin of the Orange family.

Neither of Luka’s parents were typical American natives.

From Samira’s recent accounts and the fragmented memories Luka had pieced together, his father, the late Herman von, was relatively straightforward in origin—of Chinese and Italian mixed descent, both sides descended from immigrants several generations back.

In traditional terms, Herman was considered to have married into the Orange family.

His mother, Gina Orange, had a more complex background.

[To be continued.]