Chapter 38: Being Followed

The four individuals finally started taking Link seriously. It was clear that he was a professional sent by the casino, and it seemed like he had thoroughly analyzed all four of them.

Sloan stared at Link curiously but kept silent. Antonio Sr. did the same, while the woman seemed rather intrigued by Link. The one who couldn't hide his frustration was Santino, whose earlier outburst had made him look foolish.

Link had been right in his judgment—the siblings had a competitive dynamic. Now, Santino felt that his earlier behavior had drawn his father's disapproval. And with Link continuing to win, Santino felt even more humiliated, which didn't bode well for his future.

Link ignored the searing look Santino shot at him and kept winning. The amount was substantial—enough to buy another batch of Stark Industries stocks. Plus, the tax deadline had passed, so he wouldn't need to worry about that until next year.

Leisurely puffing on his cigar and sipping bourbon, Link noticed that Jessica had also relaxed. She was now enjoying watching him dominate the game, even getting up to pour herself a glass of champagne.

By midnight, Link had won all the chips. Sloan stood up, clapping, and said, "Impressive. The young man's skills are quite remarkable."

Link also stood up, responding, "I am a professional gambler, after all. My specialty is psychology. If you ever need me, you can find me in New York."

"Of course. You're a worthy opponent. Can I have your card?" Sloan didn't seem the least bit concerned about losing ten million dollars. Link handed over his business card.

Sloan didn't stick around much longer. Turning to Antonio Sr., he said, "We've both lost. It's a tie this time." Then he left without another word. Whatever their discussion had been about, Link still wasn't sure, though he wasn't too concerned.

Antonio Sr. turned to Link. "Young man, have you ever considered taking on private work?"

"No, I haven't. Since I've never lost a single match, if I were to accept someone's offer, it would mean I'd have to win. But that would take the control of the game out of my hands," Link explained with a shake of his head.

"Good point," Antonio Sr. nodded in agreement before leaving. His daughter gave Link a flirtatious wink before following her father. Santino, however, pointed at Link menacingly before walking off.

Jessica, now feeling concerned, asked, "Honey, are we in trouble?"

"Of course not. Why would there be any trouble?" Link scoffed with a smirk. "Alright, we've won a decent amount tonight. Let's head home."

Turning to the hotel manager, Link said, "Convert it all to cash and deposit it in my account."

"Of course, Mr. Link!" The manager was very polite.

However, when Link received a call from his bank, he realized the casino hadn't been as generous as it appeared. Not only had they deducted the initial $400,000 they fronted him, but they had also taken a 10% cut. Link was left with just over $40 million, far less than he'd expected. He made a mental note not to return to this casino—it lacked generosity.

The next day, Link and Jessica left the hotel and flew back to New York. Link immediately reinvested a million dollars and transferred five million into Jessica's account. He then met with Ranley to purchase another 3,000 shares of Stark Industries stock, leaving the rest for daily expenses.

...

Every morning at 9:00 a.m., McCall would arrive at the apartment's underground garage, ready to drive Jessica to the office of her charity foundation. The office had been fully renovated, and Jessica was now busy recruiting staff.

Several positions still needed to be filled, given that the foundation held nearly $90 million worth of stock. Link, on the other hand, had a position as the foundation's investment director, responsible for managing its investments.

Jessica primarily oversaw the charitable work, which included reviewing pro bono cases handled by law firms. Many of the cases were civil suits with the potential for compensation. When such cases were won, the lawyers charged standard fees, and they were no longer part of the charity's assistance program.

Link hadn't yet started working at the foundation, as there hadn't been any investment opportunities that required his attention. For now, he found himself with plenty of free time.

High-stakes games weren't a daily occurrence. In fact, there were only a few each month, usually scheduled on weekends.

Grabbing his car keys, Link headed downstairs, climbed into his car, and roared into New York's traffic, with no particular destination in mind. He didn't feel the need to ponder what he could be doing; he knew that by next year, he'd likely be swamped with responsibilities. This downtime was only temporary.

"Hm?" As he drove aimlessly through the city, Link suddenly realized that he was being followed. It wasn't hard to notice.

This was a first. Not even Wilson Fisk had ever sent someone to tail him. Combining recent events, it wasn't hard to deduce who might be behind this—Santino Antonio.

Link decided to head toward Hell's Kitchen.

Once in the neighborhood, he found a quiet parking lot and pulled in. After parking the car, he got out, locked it, and began walking. His pursuer also parked, then followed him on foot as Link turned into a narrow alley.

The follower entered the alley but was surprised to find that Link had disappeared. Immediately on alert, he drew a silenced pistol from his coat.

With the weapon held in both hands, he cautiously advanced, scanning the alley littered with trash and discarded objects. He was unaware, however, that Link was hovering directly above him, having chosen this spot to avoid surveillance cameras.

Link silently descended, landing behind the man. With a swift move, he grabbed the back of the man's neck and lifted him off the ground.

The pursuer struggled, realizing too late that he had been caught in a powerful grip. He tried to fire his gun from under his arm, but Link effortlessly snatched the weapon away.

"Bang…" Link fired a shot into the air before slamming the man against the wall, leaving him dazed and slumped on the ground. As the man sat there, regaining his senses, he looked up in terror at Link.

Link smiled and asked, "Alright, now tell me why you were following me. And don't try to deny it—the silenced pistol makes it obvious you were here to kill me."

The man remained silent, staring at Link.

Raising the gun to the man's forehead, Link said, "I'm going to count to three. If you don't speak by then, well, it won't matter anymore."

"Three…"

"Two…"

"..."

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