Chapter 769
Chapter 769:
Mateo gulped down the coffee in one swift motion, but the warmth did nothing to settle his nerves. “Now that Jorge is dead and you’ve sent Harlan away, how the hell are we supposed to explain this to MO?”
“Mateo, keep your head on straight,” Gilmore said smoothly. “I’ve already taken care of it. Jorge’s body has been returned to the Lambert family, along with a little message—MO was the one who killed him. The Lamberts won’t let that slide. They’ll be out for blood. And as for MO, even if she suspects something, she has no proof. She can’t touch us. Once Father wakes up, she will be worthless to us.”
Mateo’s breath hitched, his eyes widening. In that moment, the full weight of Gilmore’s ruthlessness settled over him. No wonder Orson had kept him neutral—Gilmore wasn’t just cunning; he was utterly ruthless. He wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone who stood in his way. Even Mateo himself.
“Call Hank. Offer your condolences, and while you’re at it, see what he knows.”
“Alright!”
Mateo pulled out his phone and dialed Hank’s number. The line rang a few times before a tired, gravelly voice came through.
“Mateo, what can I do for you?”
Mateo exchanged a brief glance with Gilmore before clearing his throat. “Hank, my deepest condolences. I heard about Jorge. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.”
A low, humorless chuckle drifted through the receiver, sending a ripple of unease down Mateo’s spine. “I appreciate your concern. I only have one request. If we move against MO, stay out of it. Otherwise, things might get complicated.”
“I understand. I just can’t believe MO would go so far as to kill Jorge. Disagreements are one thing, but murder? That’s crossing a line.”
“Indeed, and thank you for your condolences. But right now, I have a funeral to arrange. Let’s leave it at that.”
“Of course.”
𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 gⲁ𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧴ℭ𝗈𝗺
The call ended, and Mateo set the phone down, a dangerous glint flickering in his eyes.
“Looks like he bought it. Hank believes MO killed Jorge.”
Gilmore leaned back, the corner of his lips twitching into a satisfied smirk. “In two days, Father will wake up. By then, MO and the Lamberts will be at each other’s throats, and neither will have time to worry about us. With any luck, they’ll destroy each other, and we’ll be the ones left standing to collect the spoils.”
Mateo studied Gilmore with narrowed eyes, an inexplicable chill seizing his heart as he sensed the waves of malevolence radiating from the man before him.
Unlike his usual composed demeanor—detached and deliberately unremarkable—when Gilmore unleashed his ruthless side, even Mateo found himself gripped by fear.
The memory of the White family’s downfall years ago remained seared in Mateo’s mind. Gilmore had single-handedly orchestrated their destruction, leaving over a hundred members slaughtered. When Mateo arrived at the scene, he found Gilmore standing amid the carnage, as calm as death itself.
“How’s Harlan doing? Surely he must have reached his destination by now?” Mateo asked.
“Yes.” Gilmore gave a measured nod. “Everything proceeds according to plan. Now we simply await Father’s awakening.”
“There’s another matter to discuss.” Mateo’s voice took on a grave tone. “If Father wakes and chooses to pass his power to me, what then will you do?”
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