Chapter 41: Driving People Mad

Atlanta, Decatur.

While having dinner, Milton felt a sudden tightness in his chest as he looked into the watery eyes of his third wife, Eliza. His waist creaked and groaned as if in misery, and his brother turned into a worthless slug.

He put down the knife and fork and said, "I'm going out for a bit, meeting someone to discuss business. I'll be back later."

Eliza's eyes dried up, staring blankly at her husband as he left, disappointment covering her face.

Milton drove an Audi to a nearby bar called Wild Forest.

Whenever he was in a bad mood or Eliza expressed certain needs, he liked to come here for a drink, waiting until late at night to return home.

Milton pushed open the bar door, walked to the counter, and said, "Hans, give me a whiskey, the usual."

Bruce, sitting a person away, confirmed that the newcomer was indeed Milton.

He boasted to his new drinking buddy, "You ask me why I like this place? Because I always get lucky here and meet beautiful women."

He had come for two consecutive nights and finally ran into Milton.

His drinking buddy didn't believe it, "You're full of it, I've never met anyone like that."

"Don't doubt me!" Bruce detailed, "It was a few years back, a beautiful red-haired woman drinking alone here. I struck up a conversation, and she surprisingly invited me to her place. She said her husband wasn't good enough."

The drinking buddy shook his head, "No way, something like that doesn't happen."

Bruce took a sip of his drink and continued, "You might have seen her, she has a red mole on the corner of her mouth."

The buddy, living in the area, froze for a moment, "Sounds familiar."

Upon hearing about the red mole, Milton's eyes involuntarily shifted towards Bruce.

Bruce, unfazed by challenging the English with mortar shells, blatantly ignored him, "Her name was Lena, she took me to a nearby villa, and we had a romantic night in her wedding bed. A few days later, she called me again, inviting me to her place..."

The buddy gradually began to believe, "You hooked up again?"

Bruce laughed heartily, "She told me to come in through the back door."

"You scumbag!"

The sudden outburst interrupted their conversation, Milton, consumed with rage, couldn't bear it any longer, "You lowlife scum were among those cheating bastards!"

He lunged toward Bruce.

Bruce pushed Milton away, "Are you insane?"

Milton struggled to get up, and Bruce casually readjusted his coat, "Don't move."

Milton was moved by the air of a civilized person.

Milton stopped moving.

"Crazy!" Bruce, looking displeased, clapped his hands and walked towards the bar's exit. Suddenly, he turned back, seemingly realizing something, "I remember, you're Lena's husband. We did it under your wedding photo."

People in the bar started catching on.

All eyes were on Milton.

Milton felt complicated emotions and swore never to come to this bar again.

Bruce left the bar, occasionally glancing back, then walked some distance and drove out of Decatur.

After a while, Milton walked out of the bar alone, burning with anger.

Returning to his Audi, he was about to start the engine but suddenly thought of his wife at home. Milton's hand pulled back.

It would be torture to go back.

He sat quietly in the car with his eyes closed, "Why can't they just obediently follow the head of the family?"

Late at night, the Beast's House Club dispersed, and successful customers left with their newfound partners.

Failing male customers left slowly.

Martin tidied up the bar and left after work.

On the club's second floor, Vincent, adjusting his cowboy hat, looked at Blondie, "What's going on?"

Blondie touched his swollen lips, "Martin had Ivan and me blowing whistles too forcefully these past few days, and it made our lips swell."

Vincent asked about the situation, "How are things over there?"

"A lot of media and journalists have come one after another, and Martin has been speaking for the club," Blondie reported all he had seen and heard, "To save the club's expenses, he got sponsorship from the Liberty Association. They cover materials and food."

Vincent was quite satisfied with Martin, "I know, you can go back."

Sophia, who had been silent, suddenly spoke, "Martin Davis is too smart to be controlled by fools."

"I know that," Vincent said, taking out a cigar, "As long as he brings me profit and doesn't harm my interests, why do I need to take him down?"

He lit the cigar, "Martin gave me some ideas. I'm planning to open a nearby hourly hotel and a specialty store. Business should be good, and we can cook more books."

"Great idea, I support you," Sophia stood up, "I didn't come here to talk about boring stuff; I'm here to see my sweetie."

Vincent, eyeing Sophia's robust figure, reminded her, "Don't break him."

Sophia snapped back, the veins and muscles in her neck bulging, "I'm careful; I'll only cherish him."

On West Street, Martin got into a Ford car and saw Bruce in the passenger seat. "Did you get anything tonight?"

"He probably wants to kill me," Bruce briefly recounted.

Martin praised, "Old Bruce, you're a genius."

"I can't compare to you, buddy; you got first-class looks with a load of crap inside," Bruce asked, "Who taught you?"

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

"Go tell that crap to someone else," Bruce commented, "Anyone normal would go crazy with what you do to them. He's already had two wives cheat on him."

Martin effortlessly responded, "I'm only thinking about the club's patronage, and helping you make more money. Don't you spend money on cars? To support Monica?"

Bruce interrupted, "Shut up, you filthy dog!"

Martin shrugged.

Bruce said, "Buddy, since I met you, I discovered that I'm actually a good man."

Martin replied, "I'm a good man too. Don't argue, ask Hart and Carrington, ask anyone in the club."

Bruce didn't need to ask to know.

A bunch of good boys.

The next morning, Martin called Barkley and arranged to meet at their usual spot.

He and Bruce rushed over.

The Methodist church was about to hold a training session, and news invites had been sent to various media, including the Stargazer newspaper.

Martin said, "We're friends; I wouldn't let you get into trouble. I'm just attending the press conference for free on your behalf."

Barkley felt very troubled, "This...isn't quite appropriate."

Martin raised his hand, rubbing his fingers like when they first met, "I never let friends down."

This time, Bruce pulled back his arm without prompting, proving he did civilized things in a civilized manner.

Having cooperated twice already, one more time wouldn't hurt, so Barkley didn't hesitate, "The stuff will be in your hands tomorrow morning."

*****

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