Chapter 41: Driving People Crazy

In Atlanta, specifically Decatur, Milton noticed his third wife Eliza's teary eyes during dinner. This inexplicably tightened his heart, made his abdomen ached, and turned his little brother into slugs, figuratively. Setting down his knife and fork, he declared, "I'm stepping out for a while, meeting someone about something, and I'll return later." Eliza's eyes remained dry as she watched him depart, disappointment etching her cheeks.

Milton, in his Audi, headed to the nearby Wild Forest Bar. Whenever he was upset or Eliza expressed needs, he found solace in this place, often returning late at night. Pushing open the bar's door, he approached the counter and ordered his usual, saying to Hans, "Whiskey, as usual."

Bruce, sitting across the way, turned to confirm it was Milton entering. He boasted to his drinking companion, "Wondering why I like this place? I always have good luck here and encounter beautiful women." He narrated how he'd met Eliza here years ago, describing their passionate night, and even her subsequent invitations.

The friend began to believe him, recognizing the red mole on Eliza's mouth. Milton's gaze involuntarily shifted toward Bruce.

Bruce, ignoring Milton, continued his story.

Suddenly, a shout interrupted them. Milton, infuriated, couldn't contain himself, lashing out at Bruce, who defended himself. Milton was calmed by Bruce's composed demeanor.

Afterward, Bruce's revelation about his affair with Eliza in front of their wedding photos left Milton feeling exposed and humiliated. He vowed never to return to the bar.

Bruce departed, and the bar's patrons observed Milton closely. Feeling complex emotions, he decided against starting the car. He realized returning home would be equally painful, reflecting, "They can't obey the will of the head of the family."

Later that night, the Beast House Club closed, successful couples leaving together while defeated individuals departed alone.

Martin, an employee, finished his shift and exited the club. Upstairs, Vincent inquired about the situation.

Golden Retriever, his lips swollen from whistling, reported media attention and the club's sponsorship by the Women's Association for materials and food. Vincent was content with Martin's actions.

Sofia, who had remained silent, opined that someone as clever as Martin shouldn't be supervised by someone so foolish. Vincent agreed with her sentiment.

Vincent leaned back, lighting his cigar, and contemplated, "As long as he can bring in profits without compromising my interests, is there any need for me to deal with him?"

He took a puff of his cigar, adding, "Martin has given me some intriguing ideas. I'm planning to open an hourly hotel and a specialty supplies store nearby. I believe it's a solid business opportunity, and we can expand our accounts."

Sophia, getting up from her seat, chimed in, "Great idea, I'm on board with that. But let's not waste time discussing these mundane matters. I'm here to see my little sweetheart."

Vincent, noting Sophia's powerful presence, cautioned, "Don't provoke her."

Sophia turned with visible tension in her neck muscles and veins, retorting, "I'll hurt them before it's too late."

On Saijo Street, Martin entered the Ford and found Bruce in the passenger seat. He inquired, "Anything interesting happen tonight?"

Bruce replied matter-of-factly, "I think someone wants to kill me."

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

Bruce shrugged off the compliment, saying, "I can't compare to you. You've got a silver tongue, even if it's full of nonsense. Who taught you to be like this?"

Martin almost instinctively replied, "Jack Davis is the most talented person in Atlanta."

Bruce advised, "Save that talk for someone else. Any normal person would go crazy listening to you. He's had two wives cheat on him, too."

Martin's lofty words seemed entirely unjustified. He continued, "I'm also thinking about boosting customer flow at the club. I can bring in more money for you. Doesn't it cost you to buy a car? Doesn't it cost money to support Monica? To purchase profits..."

Bruce couldn't tolerate it any longer, interrupting with frustration, "You, you jerk, just shut up!"

Martin simply shrugged.

Bruce reflected, "You know, ever since I met you, I've realized that I'm actually a decent person."

Martin retorted, "I'm a good person, too. Don't contradict me. Ask Hart, Carrington, ask anyone at the club."

Bruce didn't need to inquire further; he knew the answer.

A bunch of good boys.

The next morning, Martin contacted Buckley and arranged to meet at the usual spot. He and Bruce headed there together.

Buckley had sent invitations to several media outlets for an upcoming training event organized by the Methodist Church, and the Star Newspaper was one of them.

Martin assured him, "We're friends, I won't let you down. I'll attend the press conference on your behalf, free of charge."

Buckley felt somewhat awkward, saying, "This... doesn't feel right."

Martin raised his hand, mimicking their first encounter when they had shaken hands. He twirled his fingers and said, "I never disappoint my friends."

This time, Bruce didn't need Martin's prompt; he retracted his arm, proving he could behave civilly.

After two successful collaborations, adding one more was a no-brainer. Buckley, no longer hesitant, agreed, "I'll deliver the materials to you early tomorrow morning."