"Haha! Not bad, punk. You're pretty bold for someone who just committed an assault. In fact, you're the ballsiest one I've seen so far."

Manson sniggered and grabbed the cuffs from the table, dangling them in front of Philip. "Do you want to cuff yourself, or do you want me to do it?"

The flashy woman next to him interrupted, "I wanna do it!"

However, Philip merely said calmly, "You just want money, right? State your price."

Everyone went silent at that.

The flashy woman exchanged a look with Manson and discretely held up two fingers.

Manson understood in an instant. With a smile, he said, "Since you offered, let's do two million, and we'll consider this water under the bridge. After all, I can't just let you get away with hitting my sister for nothing."

Philip nodded and actually agreed. "Alright. Two million it is."

That was enough to spread smiles across the three people sitting opposite him.

They did not expect this broke-*ss punk to actually have some money behind him. He agreed to two million just like that.

On the other hand, Martha was not having it.

"What? Two million? That's daylight robbery!" Martha blew her top. They were plainly taking advantage of the situation.

"Shut your face, old b*tch! This has nothing to do with you!" Manson glared at Martha again, and the latter once more lowered her head, swallowing her words as her body shook.

At the same time, her heart was filled with hatred and curses for Philip.

She knew it, that piece of trash really was hiding a nest egg.

He must have gotten it from that guy back then, that George Thomas.

It was definitely more than a million, too.

'Well, well, Philip Clarke! So you've been playing me like a fool, huh?'

The more she thought about it, the angrier Martha grew. She gave Philip a vengeful glare, plotting how she was going to squeeze him of every penny after they went home later.

The flashy woman was looking at her brother with even more admiration now. She knew it, there was no problem her brother could not solve.

That thought gave her the guts to suddenly say, "Money alone won't cut it. You slapped me just now, so I demand the right to slap you back!" She was being even more unreasonable now because he gave way.

Manson scoffed too. "My sister's right. We'll consider this over if you take one slap and give us two million."

However, things went contrary to their expectations once more.

Philip said mildly, "How about this? I'll give you three million, and we pretend this never happened."

As soon as he said that, Manson and the flashy woman took a sharp intake of breath.

Three million!

This broke-*ss punk was really loaded!

"Deal!" Manson thought it over and looked at his sister. Both of them agreed.

One slap for one million was worth it!

This time, Wynn was growing anxious.

Where would Philip get three million from? What was he planning?

As she watched, Philip picked up his phone and called Theo Zander's number. "Where are you?"

"We're at the door, Mr. Clarke." Theo had arrived at the sales office at the hillside villa, with Tiger and over a dozen henchmen in tow.

As soon as he got out of his car, he received Philip's call and hurriedly ran into the sales office.

He stood at the door and looked around, only to replace Philip waving at him from the couch.

Theo hastily plastered on a smile and jogged up to Philip, saying respectfully, "I'm here, Mr. Clarke. What can I do for you?"

As he said that, he also nodded and smiled at Wynn, bending his back into a little bow. "Hi, Mrs. Clarke."

Thump!

Wynn nearly jumped from her seat!

That was Theo Zander, right?

She met him that day at her grandfather's birthday bash.

He was a famous and powerful mafia boss here at Riverdale!

Why was he here?

Also, did he just call her husband Mr. Clarke? Not Phil...?

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