Chapter 3

Stepping out of the Ruicheng Group building, the cold winter wind hit me in the face, yet I felt lighter than I had in all these fifteen years.

Instead of going home, I drove to a secluded teahouse I often visited and switched off the personal phone that had stayed on around the clock for Ruicheng Group.

I knew these people's true colors all too well.

They thought that as long as they held the company seal and the financial digital authorization key, they controlled everything.

They simply didn't understand that in a real business battlefield, what holds a multi-billion-dollar project together is never a piece of paper, but the life-and-death bonds and trust between people.

And I, Roy Fox, was Ruicheng Group's only credibility on the Starfish Bay project.

Sure enough.

Less than three hours after I turned off my phone, the first unprecedented earthquake broke out inside Ruicheng Group.

Starfish Bay was a high-end cultural-tourism project built on reclaimed land, and its most critical component, the environmental water-blocking material, could only be supplied in full quantity by one leading enterprise in the whole state, Dingsheng Building Materials.

Dingsheng's boss, Ronald Cobb, was a hot-tempered veteran who set enormous store by loyalty and honor.

Back when Ronald's cash flow had collapsed and he was about to jump off a building, it was I, Roy Fox, who, despite pressure from James Whitney, wired him an advance of a hundred million dollars ahead of schedule and saved his whole family.

So for this Starfish Bay project, Ronald not only gave Ruicheng Group the lowest purchase price in the entire industry, he even agreed to defer payment for three months, all on the strength of my name alone.

At two in the afternoon, Ronald called James Whitney's office directly.

"Chairman Whitney, I hear my brother Roy has been shown the door by your people?" Ronald's voice came over the speakerphone, cold as ice.

James Whitney was drenched in sweat, dabbing at his face with a handkerchief while forcing a smile.

"Mr. Cobb, it's a misunderstanding! Roy's health is poor, and he asked to take early retirement to recover. Don't worry about the project. I've put my own nephew, Dale Whitney, in full charge. The funding is absolutely no problem!"

"Your own nephew?"

Ronald gave a cold laugh on the other end.

"Fine. Since you've changed your man, then let's do it by the rules. Tonight at eight, have him bring the company seal to the private room on the top floor of the Oceanview Grand to see me."

The moment he hung up, James Whitney felt like a condemned man granted a pardon and immediately hauled Dale Whitney out of the office, where he'd been playing video games.

"Dale! Tonight, whatever it takes, even if you have to kneel on the floor and call him grandpa, you keep Mr. Cobb happy for me! If he cuts off supply, Starfish Bay shuts down completely tomorrow, and we'll be paying several million a day in penalties!"

Dale, however, curled his lip, unimpressed, and smoothed down his Gucci sweater.

"Uncle, you've gone soft in the head. This is a society run by law, and we're the client! Cobb is just some guy selling cement and sand—does he really think he's the big man? Relax, I've seen plenty of these country bumpkins. A few glasses of top-shelf whiskey, a few nice words, and a promise to throw him a little kickback, and I'll have him eating out of my hand."

Eight o'clock that night, the top private room at the Oceanview Grand.

To show off, Dale had made a point of bringing two heavily made-up hostesses and opening a very expensive bottle of Romanée-Conti.

When Ronald pushed the door open, he'd brought only one assistant. He wore an ordinary jacket and sat down squarely in the head seat, not even sparing the two hostesses a glance.

"Mr. Cobb! I've heard so much about you!"

Dale immediately raised his wine glass, all smiles, and leaned in.

"I'm Dale Whitney, Ruicheng Group's new Executive Vice President. Since it's our first meeting, I'll down this glass—please, drink as you like!"

With that, he tipped his head back and drained the red wine in one gulp.

Ronald sat in his chair without moving.

He watched Dale coldly, the way you'd watch a clown.

"So you're the Vice President Whitney who swallowed my brother's fifty-million year-end bonus and paid him five hundred bucks?"

Ronald's voice wasn't loud, but every word landed like a hammer.

The smile froze on Dale's face. He'd never imagined the company's internal financial secrets could spread so fast.

"Mr. Cobb, that's a harsh way to put it... this is an internal personnel adjustment within our company. Roy got arrogant on the back of his own success, and I'm only doing this to bring order to how the company is run..."

"Bang!"

Ronald slammed his hand down on the table so hard the wine glasses shook violently.

"Order? Who the hell are you to talk to me about running a company!"

Ronald pointed right at Dale's nose and let loose a merciless tirade.

"Back when I was hauling cement on construction sites, you were still in diapers! Let me tell you something—the reason I agreed to defer two hundred million and work with you people is that I signed on for Roy's character, not for your Whitney family name!"

"With Roy there, Ruicheng was a brother company to me, Ronald Cobb. Without Roy, Ruicheng isn't worth a fart in my eyes!"

Dale's face went from green to white under the barrage, but he still clung to his pitiful shred of pride.

"Mr. Cobb, isn't that going a bit far? Ruicheng is a multi-billion-dollar group. You think we can't put up this building without your brick?"

"Oh, good! You've got guts!"

Ronald was so furious he laughed. He shot to his feet, grabbed the briefcase from his assistant, pulled out a termination letter, and hurled it hard into Dale's slick, powdered face.

"Since Vice President Whitney is so capable, then let's keep it strictly business! Under Article 3 of the contract's supplementary clauses, when Party A's chief project officer changes, Party B has the right to reassess performance risk and demand early settlement of the outstanding balance."

Ronald loomed over Dale, who had gone limp with fear in his chair.

"Ruicheng Group has until five o'clock tomorrow afternoon to transfer my two hundred thirty million in outstanding material payments and deposit—every last cent—into Dingsheng's corporate account. If the money isn't there, all supply to the Starfish Bay project is cut off! See you in court!"

With that, Ronald turned to leave.

At the door he suddenly stopped, and looked back at Dale with a cold smile.

"Oh, right, I forgot to tell you. In our line of work, nothing matters more than the rules. I've already had a word with the other three suppliers in the state. The moment I cut you off, not one of them will dare sell Ruicheng so much as a grain of sand. Vice President Whitney, you keep your fifty million and go reclaim the sea yourself!"

The private-room door slammed shut with a bang.

Dale slumped into his chair, staring at the termination letter on the floor, cold sweat instantly soaking through his expensive Gucci sweater.

He finally realized that what he'd kicked was no steel plate at all, but a mountain massive enough to grind all of Ruicheng Group into dust.