The assistant standing behind the man noticed Ronald and quickly whispered something in his ear.noveldrama

At the words, the man handed off his pool cue, turned around with a broad, welcoming smile, and strode over to Ronald, extending his hand.

"Mr. Quinn, I didn't think you'd actually show up."

Ronald glanced at the outstretched hand but didn't shake it. Instead, he said coolly, "Mr. Bernie, you know why I'm here. I'm here to collect what Lancelot left with you."

No pleasantries, no small talk, Ronald cut straight to the point. He could sense Stella's discomfort in this setting.

Bernie raised an eyebrow, his grin widening, making his scruffy beard shift slightly.

"Ha, Lancelot, huh? Mr. Quinn, why don't we discuss this over here?"

The emphasis on "discuss" made it clear to Ronald that retrieving the item wouldn't be straightforward.

Bernie gestured toward a nearby couch and led the way. He sank into it casually, and within moments, a tall, slim woman perched herself on his lap. Bernie's large, tanned hand rested on her waist, his fingers idly tracing circles. The assistant from earlier handed Bernie a lit cigar.

Taking a slow puff, Bernie exhaled a think plume of smoke, directly toward the woman.

Stella, witnessing this scene, slightly regretted coming along. In hindsight, staying on the plane and catching some sleep might have been a better idea.

Ronald narrowed his eyes slightly. "Alright, what's the deal?"

Bernie took another drag from the cigar. "That item seems to be quite significant for you, Mr. Quinn?"

Ronald didn't respond, his silence implying agreement.

Bernie's grin was almost friendly as he shifted his gaze to Stella. He had noticed her the moment he turned around. She was petite and appeared not fully matured. Stella, sensing his scrutiny, instinctively moved closer to Ronald.

Bernie flashed a set of yellowed teeth. "Rumor has it that Mr. Quinn isn't interested in women. Turns out you just have a particular taste. Quite the rarity."

Finding a small woman wasn't the challenge, but locating one so petite with such delicate features was no easy feat, especially with cherubic cheeks that seemed impossibly soft.

"Where did Mr. Quinn find this little treasure?" Bernie's tone was flippant, as though he were assessing merchandise rather than a person.

Clearly, he had no idea that Stella had grown up at Ronald's side, assuming instead that she was some plaything he'd brought along.

The moment those words left Bernie's mouth, Ronald's gaze deepened, chilling and dangerous.

But Bernie, too engrossed in his brazen stare at Stella, remained oblivious to the shift in atmosphere.

Finley's mouth twitched as he glanced at Bernie, thinking, "This guy's asking for trouble."

Idris, overhearing Bernie's comment, exchanged a quick look with Finley. Evidently, even he hadn't imagined someone could be more reckless than Finley. Ronald checked his watch. "State your terms."

His tone was laced with impatience. The icy edge in his voice snapped Bernie's attention back to him. With a lazy gesture, Bernie pointed his cigar at Stella. "Let me have her for a day, and the item is yours. Fair trade, wouldn't you say, Mr. Quinn?"

Stella's mind reeled. She wanted nothing more than to throttle Bernie, but the importance of their mission kept her rooted. Whatever the item was, it was clearly crucial,

Stella bit back her anger, staying put.

Then, without a word, Ronald

reached for his waist. In one fluid motion he placed a gun next to the wine glass on the table, its cold, dark barrel aimed squarely at Bernie.

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The air electrified with tension.

Bernie's bodyguards instinctively moved their hands to their waists, but Bernie stopped them with a dismissive wave.

Stella tensed, her entire body on high alert.

Ronald's large hand came to rest reassuringly on her knee, grounding her even as his voice turned dangerously low.

"I didn't come here to negotiate."

Bernie's expression hardened in an instant.

Ronald continued, "I'm taking that item with me. As for your conditions..."

He paused, the silence heavy with threat.

Fixing Bernie with a gaze as cold and perilous as a winter storm, Ronald concluded, "I gave you a chance. But since you're not willing to name your price, I'll assume you don't want anything from this deal."