America's No. 1 financial conglomerate

Chapter 614 Intelligence Network

After hanging up Henry Paulson's call, Monica Bellucci, who was in Ernst's arms, slapped Ernst's large hand away, snorted, and turned her head away in displeasure.

Her right hand swiftly gripped the collar of her robe, so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The fabric was pulled tightly against her collarbone, as if she wanted to completely wrap herself up, as if she were sulking with someone.

Ernst smiled, stretched out his long arm, and easily pulled the still sulking woman back into his arms. He gently patted her back and said in a soothing tone, "It's my fault. I was a little excited just now and used so much force. I didn't mean to."

Ignoring her protests, he kissed her on the cheek.

Monica Bellucci struggled to break free, showing no appreciation whatsoever, leaving Ernst somewhat bewildered.

"What are you angry about now?" Clearly, the other person's anger wasn't due to what had just happened.

"See for yourself." Monica said irritably, throwing her phone onto the sofa between them.

After seeing the above, I touched the tip of my nose somewhat awkwardly.

The text message was from Charlize Theron, asking for the location of her villa.

"This is my home," Monica said angrily.

Ernst put his arm around her shoulder again. "It's my fault, but it's not entirely my fault."

Monica gave her a cold look and asked, "Are you blaming me?"

Ernst, with a grin, looked down and said, "It's one thing for you to wrong me, but you can't always wrong yourself, can you?"

Monica Bellucci's face instantly turned bright red. She really couldn't understand how someone could go to such high intensity every day, twice a day, and still get stronger and stronger.

She could grit her teeth and persevere for a day or two, but after two days, it wasn't enjoyable for her anymore; it felt like the sky was falling.

Women also need to conserve their energy.

"I'm still okay," she said stubbornly.

"Is that so?" Ernst grinned mischievously.

Her body trembled, and her voice shook as she asked, "What do you want to do?"

"Nothing much." Ernst's voice deepened, but with a hint of ambiguity. "I just wanted to boldly verify whether what you said is true."

Before he could finish speaking, he didn't give Monica a chance to refute him. With a little force, he pressed her down onto the soft sofa.

Monica gasped and instinctively tried to struggle, but he held her firmly in place, preventing her from moving.

The sofa cushions were pressed down and dented, and the air was thick with the scent of the two of them, the atmosphere developing in a warm and intense direction.

Unfortunately, the phone on the table rang out of the blue.

When Ernst answered the phone, it was Muller calling.

"Boss, Elaine called and asked him to meet her at the East River Wharf in an hour."

Ernst perked up and, no longer caring about the disheveled beauty, said, "Very good. Make arrangements and deliver the goods as soon as you receive them."

"clear."

The East River piers of New York City bear witness to the city's centuries-long history.

In the steam age, this place was New York's busiest distribution center for goods, with countless merchant ships shuttling back and forth day and night, and the sound of ship horns never ceasing.

After over a century of urban renewal and development, this area is no longer the bustling place it once was. In its place are meticulously planned scenic walkways, well-arranged greenery, and modern recreational facilities, making it the most beautiful viewpoint on Manhattan Island.

one.

As night falls, the lights on both banks of the Donghe River light up one after another, reflecting on the calm river surface, creating a shimmering and breathtaking scene.

The Nemo Cafe next to Donghe Square was unusually quiet at the moment.

It was deep winter, and the nights in New York were bitterly cold. Even in a bustling city like Manhattan, it was difficult to attract many pedestrians to stop.

Elaine sat by the window, a cup of black coffee that had long since gone cold in front of her.

His gaze fell on his personal cell phone on the table. The screen was still displaying the text message: "Nemo Cafe at Donghe Wharf, 5 PM, one person only."

He shook his head slightly, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips.

"These Wall Street elites must watch too many movies," he thought to himself. "It's not like they're gangsters selling drugs or undercover agents making rendezvous. Do they really need to pull these stunts?"

The more you try to hide something, the more likely it is to arouse suspicion.

His gaze pierced through the glass window, looking towards the banks of the East River not far away.

In the darkness, his superior, Muller, stood alone, tall and straight, wearing a black overcoat with his hands in his pockets. He seemed to be admiring the night view of the East River, but in reality, his sharp eyes were scanning the surrounding environment, alert to any possible anomalies.

Elaine withdrew her gaze, a sense of感慨 (gan3kai3, a feeling of mixed emotions, including regret or nostalgia) creeping into her heart. "This job is much easier than in the army. There's less work, it's relatively simple, and the pay is higher."

He came from an intelligence background, and so did everyone in his group.

And the people who hire him are the dark web.

More accurately, it should be the Garfield family office, the special intelligence department, which is publicly known as the Rogers Detective Consulting Company.

Their mission was simple: to serve the Garfield family and obtain crucial intelligence through various clandestine means, in situations where the family could not appear in person.

For example, they made contact with the Russian side regarding a series of intelligence reports and then connected with Ernst Asset Management.

The clock on the wall ticked away, and with only five minutes left until the agreed-upon five o'clock, the door of the coffee shop was pushed open by a cold breeze, making a crisp tinkling sound.

A thin man walked in, instantly attracting the attention of the few employees in the store.

Elaine looked up and was speechless for a moment.

The person who came was wearing a black baseball cap with the brim pulled down so low that it almost covered most of his face.

He was wearing an overly long black trench coat with the collar turned up high, completely covering his neck.

What shocked him the most was that he was wearing sunglasses late at night. Was he afraid that people wouldn't notice him?

Otherwise, how could he say that these Wall Street elites watch too many movies and have no brains at all?

After entering, the man cautiously scanned the café's interior, his gaze lingering for a moment before finally settling on Elaine's location.

Without the slightest hesitation, he walked straight toward Elaine.

Elaine watched him approach step by step, and couldn't help but find it somewhat amusing.

Why did he have to put a lighter on the table, propped up on a cigarette holder, as a contact marker?

Are there any other customers in the entire coffee shop besides him?

"Here's what you wanted." After sitting down, the other person patted a leather document bag held to their chest, their tone cold and direct.

"It seems your company is in a really big crisis right now. On the very first day of the Russian debt default, you made such a choice, betraying your employer." Elaine's words sounded both sarcastic and like a victor's declaration.

This wasn't the first time the two had met. Three months earlier, Elaine had been frequently approaching him as part of her mission.

At that time, the other party was the secretary of Long-Term Capital Management CEO Merryweather, and had a promising future.

He scoffed at Elaine's claim that she used her position to leak information and earn some extra money.

At that time, it was Elaine who begged him.

Now the situation has reversed, and the other party has approached him.

Hearing Elaine's sarcasm, the man's face instantly turned ugly. His brows furrowed tightly, and his tone was filled with impatience. "Stop talking nonsense, where's the money?"

He's only thinking about getting his reward and has no interest in dealing with Elaine.

Elaine put down her coffee cup, tapping her fingers lightly on the table, and said calmly, "Shouldn't I at least check the goods first? What if you give me something that's not what I want, or just a worthless piece of paper? Wouldn't I just be losing money for nothing?"

Upon hearing this, the man's face revealed a mocking expression, his eyes filled with disdain. "Do you even understand it?"

He had met Elaine several times and could tell that she was by no means a professional in the financial industry.

Faced with the other party's questioning, Elaine was not angry. Instead, she nodded calmly and said in a composed tone, "You're right, I really can't understand these professional financial documents."

"Then I won't watch it, just pay me first." With that, he took out a pre-prepared check from his pocket, placed it on the table, and pushed it toward the other person.

The moment he saw the check, a look of joy finally appeared on Mars' face, and a hint of greed flashed in his eyes.

However, when he saw the amount written on the check, the smile on his face froze instantly, replaced by overwhelming anger.

He slammed his hand on the table and growled, "Are you kidding me?"

"You promised five hundred thousand dollars, but there's only one hundred thousand dollars on this? Do you think I'm stupid?"

His emotions became extremely agitated, his chest heaving violently, and his eyes filled with resentment and anger. "Although I don't know who you work for, the forces behind you certainly understand the value of this information."

He slapped the leather document bag on the table again and said confidently, "With this information, you can profit from it, not just five hundred thousand dollars, but five million dollars, or even fifty million dollars."

"Don't get agitated." Elaine raised her hand to signal him to calm down. "I already said I want to inspect the goods."

Just as the man was about to retort, Elaine said again, "I may not understand this information, but that doesn't mean my people don't."

He paused, his gaze fixed intently on the other person's eyes. "If you agree, I'll call my people right now and have them come over and take the documents away to verify their authenticity and value in person. I'll stay here, how about that?"

Mars hesitated when he heard the suggestion.

He glanced down at the brown paper file folder on the table, then looked up at Elaine, his eyes filled with struggle.

Seeing Mars hesitate, Elaine took another check out of her pocket and placed it next to the first one, saying sincerely, "This check is for four hundred thousand dollars."

"As long as my people verify the information, both checks will be yours."

"You know, neither of us wants to escalate things; a lose-lose situation benefits no one. A mutually beneficial outcome is what we both hope for, isn't it?"

Mars paused for a moment, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two checks and the manila envelope, before finally nodding slowly as if he had made up his mind.

He knew he didn't have many options left. Long-Term Capital Management was facing an imminent crisis, and he had to get the money as soon as possible to pave his way out.

Seeing this, Elaine smiled, picked up her phone, and quickly dialed a number. "Take the items away and verify them carefully."

Less than a minute later, the coffee shop door was pushed open again, and a tall, thin man walked in, heading straight for Elaine and Mars' table.

He didn't say a word the whole time, took the document from Mars's hand, and turned to leave.