American Gossip King

Chapter 113 How thick a stack of banknotes could stop a bullet?

The plane slowly landed at Los Angeles Airport.

Boyle Kaman stepped off the plane, where several cars were already waiting.

Alex, president of Ankang Company's Los Angeles branch, stepped forward and shook Boyle's hand: "Mr. Kaman, you've arrived."

Boyle calmly withdrew his hand and asked, "How's things going with Red Valley Company?"

The person in charge said awkwardly, "Things aren't going well; they rejected our acquisition plan."

Boyle said calmly, "It's alright, that's why I'm here to talk about this."

As he got into the car, the person in charge was about to get in when Boyle, without even looking up, said, "I don't like sitting with other people."

The person in charge awkwardly got out of the car and walked to another vehicle.

The convoy slowly started moving and headed towards Ankang Company's Los Angeles branch.

Boyle was still looking at the documents in his hand when a young man sitting in the front passenger seat said, "Mr. Kaman, it's a rare opportunity for you to come to Los Angeles. Is there anything I can arrange for you? I mean, anything outside of work."

Boyle looked up at the person in the passenger seat.

The young man smiled and said, "My name is Kirkham Billy, and I'm the head of claims at the Los Angeles branch."

Boyle hummed in agreement: "I know you. I heard you're good at claims?"

"It's all thanks to the board's excellent guidance that we've been able to keep the claims process under control," Kirkham Billy laughed.

Boyle, without looking up, said, "The door to claims cannot be closed. The key is to make good use of more ambiguous clauses, and also to avoid offending the wrong people."

Kirkhambury immediately retorted, "But those who are not worth offending can usually be dealt with without insurance claims; only the poor need insurance."

Boyle looked up at Kirkham: "You're being childish. Compensation isn't for those who need it, it's for those who can't afford to offend you, understand?"

Kirkham sighed, "Yes, I understand, sir, but there are many times when things happen suddenly, and our people can't be sure who they can and can't mess with."

Boyle asked in surprise, "What do you mean by that?"

"For example, with ambulances, they don't care about that; they just do their job for the money. They don't know who we want to compensate or who we don't want to compensate."

Boyle's expression hardened slightly as he glanced at the driver.

"They're all on our side," Cochham said.

Boyle, however, still said, "I don't want to discuss this issue."

So Cochham laughed and said, "How about we talk about life then? You know Los Angeles has Hollywood, and there are lots of stars here."

Boyle looked at him in surprise: "You can arrange that?"

Kirkham chuckled, "I happen to know a pretty girl who's somewhat famous. She recently went through a terrible ordeal and is now desperately seeking the protection of a powerful figure."

As he spoke, he handed Boyle a photograph; the girl in the photo was beautiful and charming.

"Jessica Alba," Cochham said, "I'll arrange for her to come to your room tonight, if you'd like."

Boyle smiled.

He nodded slightly. "Jessica Alba, yes, I know her. I didn't expect you to go this far, Billy. It's a bit of a waste of your talent to be the head of claims."

He looked up at Kirkham: "It's eleven o'clock at night, I'm a person who loves his work."

………………

In the hotel room under the cover of night, Boyle was still diligently reviewing the materials.

After considering several key points for tomorrow's negotiations, Boyle carefully circled them with his pen.

He put down his pen, stood up, swung his arm, and made a few arm-swinging movements.

Standing in front of the large French windows, he looked down at the night view, where people were laughing loudly under the dazzling lights.

As one of the most prosperous areas in the world, Beverly Hills is like a city within a city, where only the most elite people are qualified to live.

Looking back on all the hard work over the years, Boyle feels it was all worthwhile.

A slight smile appeared on his lips.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

Boyle raised his wrist and looked at his expensive watch.

"Exactly eleven o'clock, very punctual," Boyle said with a smile.

He went to the door, opened it, and saw Jessica Alba and Kirkham standing there.

"Hi!" Jessica waved to Boyle.

Boyle smiled and said, "Please come in, beautiful lady."

Jessica then brushed against Boyle's body and entered him. Boyle tried to take off her coat, but she had already taken it off herself and hung it on the rack.

Boyle was about to close the door when he saw Kirkham walk in.

He frowned. "What are you doing here?"

Kirkham quickly said, "Don't misunderstand, Mr. Kaman. Miss Alba has something to tell you, and I don't want you to misunderstand, so..."

Boyle saw the helplessness in his expression, said nothing more, and simply sat down on the sofa in the living room: "If it's about money, you can just say so."

"It's not about the money, Mr. Kaman." Jessica sat down in front of Boyle, crossing one of her long, alluring legs and revealing a large expanse of fair skin, which made Boyle's eyes slightly glaze over.

Jessica Alba said, "I have a friend who works at an ambulance center and he wants to earn some extra money. Mr. Kirkham said you can arrange it."

Ambulance center? Side hustle?

Boyle was taken aback: "This has nothing to do with me."

As he spoke, he looked at Kirkham.

Kirkham protested, "Alex said the ambulance center's expenses are a bit high, and they're planning to cut costs. In this situation, I can't arrange more people; you know, some people, once they're on the bus, can't get off. But if you say so, it shouldn't be a problem."

Boyle shook his head repeatedly: "I don't know what you're talking about. What do you mean by the ambulance center's expenses having nothing to do with me? I don't know about them and I'm not responsible for them."

He then looked at Jessica and said, "Miss Alba, if you want to help your friend, I have a very simple suggestion. How about I give you some money, and then you can share it with your friend?"

Jessica countered, "How much will you give me?"

Boyle laughed and said, "Ten thousand dollars."

Jessica gently shook her head: "I heard that some people at the ambulance center can earn three to five thousand a month, I mean every month."

"Fuck!" Boyle roared at Kokam, furious. "What did you say?"

Kirkham quickly added, "It wasn't me, it was the people at the ambulance center. You know how these guys flaunt their money. Someone knows they've been taking extra money off the side. I went to deliver some money once… well, three times, and they saw me. They wanted to get involved too!"

The latest novel is first published here!

Boyle yelled, "But you shouldn't drag me into this! It has nothing to do with me!"

Jessica Alba immediately retorted, "But you know, right? And you have the right to decide. We just want a part-time job, is that so difficult for you? You're a board member, the CEO! This kind of thing is just a matter of a word for you."

Boyle pointed at Jessica Alba and yelled, "Shut up, you woman! You don't understand anything. You can get a million dollars from me if you're willing to spread your legs and serve me properly, instead of becoming a butcher and killing people for a few tens of thousands of dollars!!!"

As he spoke, he suddenly slammed on the brakes and looked at Jessica in horror.

Jessica smiled.

She nodded slightly: "So, so you were indeed instructing the ambulance staff to take detours for emergency patients, preventing them from receiving timely treatment? This is the part-time job, isn't it?"

Boyle stared blankly at Jessica, then suddenly realized something and shouted at Kirkham, "Search her!"

Kokam didn't move, but just looked at Boyle with pity.

Boyle felt as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

"I have no choice, Mr. Kaman," Kirkham said in a low voice. "They're threatening me with my daughter's and my wife's lives... They're gangsters, they're capable of anything."

"Fuck! How dare you betray a board member!" Boyle roared as he lunged at Jessica.

Just as he lunged forward, the door was slammed open.

A large, black man rushed in and slammed his shoulder into Boyle, knocking him to the ground.

Boyle shouted, "George!"

"Your bodyguard's asleep. A beauty and a drink will do the trick," the burly black man chuckled.

Boyle roared, "Damn it, this is a five-star hotel!"

"We are guests in the room next to yours."

A leisurely voice came from behind.

Ian walked in with a nonchalant air, his hands in his pockets, accompanied by Helen Berry, the very person who had dealt with Boyle's bodyguard.

Jessica happily pounced on Ian: "Ian! Did I do a good job?"

"Professional acting!" Ian smiled and kissed her.

Jessica's acting skills aren't great, but they're good enough for this kind of situation.

Jessica laughed, "Then let's deal with that guy quickly. The way he looked at my thigh made me want to vomit. I love this part; punishing villains is the most exciting part, isn't it?"

Ian wrapped his arm around Jessica's waist: "I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, Jessica, baby. While I wouldn't do something like trafficking women, in other ways I'm not much different from a gangster... You know, sometimes if you act too kind, even if you're incredibly powerful, they'll still look down on you, right? For a gang, following a good person is their greatest disgrace!"

The burly black man who had knocked Boyle down earlier chuckled, then stood up next to Ian, his muscles bulging.

His name is Hadak, a famous top enforcer in the Crippled Gang.

The Crippled Gang once had six top-notch fighters, but after the battle to subdue them, only this one remained.

But it doesn't matter, top-notch enforcers are like leeks, they grow very fast!

Then Ian waved for Kirkham and Haddak to leave and closed the door.

Boyle stared blankly at Ian: "Ian Karl? I know you... Why? Why did you do this?"

Ian sat down in front of Boyle and said, "About three months ago, there was a gunfight at a bar in Monticino. MS13 retaliated by shooting everyone there, including an innocent old man."

Boyle understood somewhat: "Your father?"

Ian shook his head gently: "No, but he's like my father, and I respect him very much."

He leaned closer to Boyle: "His name is Gaskell Bent, chairman of Linuo Bank. Of course, Linuo Bank is only a little over two billion in size, and the funds it manages are only a few tens of billions, which cannot be compared with a behemoth like Ankang Insurance Company. But fortunately, life is fair. No matter how much money or power you have, a bullet can take you away."

As he spoke, he glanced at the floor-to-ceiling window behind Boyle and chuckled, "Perhaps we won't even need bullets."

Boyle was horrified. He cried out, "This is a misunderstanding! That wasn't our arrangement, and the board of directors would never make such a decision!"

"I know! Of course you wouldn't make a decision that would send you to the gallows; you'd just pretend you don't know and let things go your own way! I also know you don't intend to renege on your debt." Ian nodded.

He laughed, "I overheard your conversation with Kirkham. I have a recording, but unfortunately, it's not very valuable! You're happy to compensate the rich, not the poor. But what's done is done. Although Gaskell isn't dead, I'm still furious! Can you understand this anger? Your dearest person almost died because some company tried to save a few hundred thousand in medical expenses!"

Boyle understood.

He nodded slightly: "How many stacks of banknotes would it take to stop a bullet?"

(End of this chapter)