America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

On the Mercedes-Benz bus, Bruce opened the partition door and came out from the cockpit.

The sudden noise caused the heated atmosphere inside the bus to solidify, including Marina and Natalia among others, everyone turned to look at Bruce.

"I've got something to take care of," Martin immediately got up and went over.

Bruce glanced at the women and said in a low voice, "There's a tail behind us, followed us all the way from the hotel, doesn't look like paparazzi or reporters."

Leonardo and Nicholson came over as well.

The latter, always eager for a problem to solve, perked up upon hearing Bruce's words and asked in a low voice, "Could there really be a 'sparrow' aboard?"

Leonardo frowned, "I had background checks done. Everyone who's come this time has over five years of experience as actors or models, and not just in name only. They're quite active in their circles."

Martin thought for a moment, then asked, "Details on the tail."

Bruce replied, "Silver-gray Citroën sedan, the license plate is..."

"Let's test the waters, leave it to me," Martin said in a low voice as he looked outside. "If there really is a 'sparrow' on board, she must have come for the party, to get close to us. Therefore, I'm guessing they would want the party to go on as planned."

Leonardo and Nicholson both nodded.

"How about this..." Martin suggested a few things in a low voice.

Leonardo agreed, "That could work, I'll follow your lead, you've got the sneakiest ideas."

Nicholson wanted to take action, but since the idea came from Martin, he felt it inappropriate to take over outright and said, "If your method fails, then it's my turn."

Martin nodded, "Fine."

Bruce returned to the cockpit and shut the partition door firmly.

Martin grabbed the handrail and turned to face everyone.

Perhaps the wait might be a bit long, some people were idly fiddling with their cellphones.

Natalia turned off her phone and asked, "Has something happened?"

"Folks, we may need to stay on the bus a bit longer. We've got a tail behind us, a Citroën that's been following us since the hotel. I suspect they have ulterior motives," Martin said directly.

"It's not paparazzi, is it?" Elena asked.

"Let's hope it's just entertainment journalists or paparazzi," Martin said with caution. "I've been through some unpleasant incidents, as you may have heard, and they've made me someone who tends to think the worst."

Sasha Rose called out with a laugh, "You're the Cola War God!"

All the women laughed, shouting various things.

Martin clapped his hands and gestured for everyone to quiet down with his hands before speaking again, "We'll observe the situation and see if we can shake off this tail. If things look bad, we'll have to cancel tonight's party and reschedule another time."

The bus almost erupted, as many had traveled all the way from Russia and Ukraine.

To fly thousands of miles to deliver that 'something' and not be able to, any woman would be annoyed.

Martin nodded in acknowledgment.

Leonardo stepped forward and said, "Even if our party doesn't take place, the promises I made to everyone remain fully valid."

The bus instantly quieted down.

Their ultimate purpose for coming was not romance.

What for, everyone was well aware.

As Leonardo spoke, Marina held her cellphone in one hand, using her body as a shield, and with the speed of professional training, quickly composed a text message and sent it to her uncle.

She had accepted a mission and boarded this bus, of course, she intended to complete it.

No one on this bus wanted the party to go ahead as planned more than she did.

After sending the text message, Marina skillfully switched back to the gaming interface and continued playing the little game she had been engaged with before.

Martin's voice came again, "Ladies, please be patient while our super driver attempts to lose the tail behind us."

Three days ago, the trio had discussed the possibility of being targeted by French paparazzi and had devised several plans to shake them off.

The Mercedes-Benz bus headed for a large parking garage with multiple exits.

…

On a black business van, the uncle received the message sent by Marina.

He immediately picked up the papers next to him, reviewing the itinerary of the "Inception" crew.

The crew that Martin Davis belonged to was set to leave France tomorrow afternoon for Spain to start a new promotional journey and would be flying around the world with no chance of having such a party again in the short term.

Given Martin's status and appeal in Hollywood, he could soon be enticed by other parties, forgetting about the Russian side.

The uncle decisively ordered, "Change of plans, behind the target bus, there's a silver-gray Citroën in pursuit, keep an eye on it!"

"Target vehicle spotted, maintaining surveillance!" subordinates replied promptly, and after turning a corner, another team reported, "Confirmed the silver-gray Citroën is tailing the target bus, the license plate is..."

The uncle, disliking these unexpected developments, asked, "Can we confirm the vehicle information?"

The tech staff accessed the vehicle information based on the license plate, "The Citroën is a rental, rented by an Englishman."

Hearing it was a Brit, the uncle was somewhat disdainful and after some thought, ordered, "Find the right spot to stop them, don't let them disturb our target."

"Roger that!"

"Roger that!"

Someone asked an additional question, "Shall we stuff the Brit's head up his arse?"

The uncle said, "Dump him in District 92, let him fend for himself."

His priority was to ensure the party went ahead, and he commanded, "The bus is very alert, everyone withdraw from the pursuit immediately, focus on stopping the Citroën, it must be intercepted!"

As the sky grew dark, the bus turned into the underground parking garage, where vehicles had been readied to assist.

One car suddenly had an accident, blocking the entrance to the parking garage.

Several cars immediately blocked the one-way entrance.

The bus entered the parking lot and stopped beside three commercial vehicles.

As the front and rear doors opened, Martin and his three rotten accomplices quickly disembarked with a group of women and got into the three commercial vehicles. They chose an appropriate exit and left the parking lot.

The Mercedes bus simply stopped inside the parking lot.

At the entrance, the cars that couldn't start were briefly repaired and slowly made their way into the parking lot.

The silver Citroën, caught in the traffic, finally entered the parking lot.

But the target had already vanished from view ahead.

"Damn it!" Tom Hardy watched with wide eyes as the Mercedes bus disappeared from his sight, feeling exceptionally frustrated. After planning for several days, he had ended up with nothing, which was a great disappointment. Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire

He didn't give up easily and said, "Look around; they might not have left yet."

Rogers slowed down to carefully look for the bus.

As the Citroën circled the parking lot for a while, Tom Hardy caught a glimpse of the bus's shadow, which was parked in the darkest part of the parking lot, like a ghost.

He pointed, "Over there."

Rogers turned the wheel, aiming to head over.

Opposite them, a German Volkswagen approached with its headlights on, as it was already dark outside.

The blinding lights prompted Rogers to instinctively brake, just about to curse "high-beam jerk" or something similar when, amid a shrill brake sound, the Volkswagen blocked the way ahead.

The bus was right in front, and Tom Hardy was getting anxious. He rolled down the window and shouted, "Damn it, move! Move your ass out of the way!"

But there was no response from the other side, only the dazzling headlights piercing the eyes.

Tom Hardy suddenly felt something wasn't right.

Before he could react, two more cars arrived from behind; one blocking the Citroën's rear and the other sealing off the angle for a U-turn.

Several men wearing black knit caps got out of the cars.

They showed only their mouths and noses and were holding handguns, all pointed at the front seats of the Citroën.

One of them shouted in French, "Get out, get out fast, and hand over all your money and valuables, or I'll shoot!"

"Damn Frenchman, such terrible security!" cursed Tom Hardy internally, thinking he had encountered an armed robbery. Facing the dark muzzles of the guns, he didn't dare say much or do anything rash and hurriedly got out of the car.

Rogers followed suit.

The men, four against one, pressed the handgun to their victims' heads, twisted Tom Hardy's arm behind him, tied him up with zip ties, sealed his mouth with duct tape, and put a thick black bag over his head.

Then someone came over to frisk him, taking Tom Hardy's wallet, watch, phone, and necklace, among other things.

The person frisking Tom Hardy was quite unscrupulous, specifically searching his crotch area.

This guy, like a creepy uncle dealing with a little kid, squeezed a handful on Tom Hardy's bulge.

"F*ck!" Tom Hardy howled in pain but could only make a strange noise because his mouth was sealed shut.

The creepy uncle chuckled, "See, he's enjoying it!"

Tom Hardy cursed inwardly.

With a perverse pleasure, the man squeezed again.

Tom Hardy was in so much pain that he wanted to jump up and fight back, but the cold muzzle pressed against his head cooled his blood.

"Don't move!" The creepy uncle was not done playing and punched him several times in the head.

When Tom Hardy felt like his eyes, nose, and mouth were no longer his own, he was picked up and thrown into the trunk of a car.

Rogers didn't fare any better, being tossed into the trunk like a broken bag.

Four cars left the parking lot, heading in different directions.

Lying in the trunk, Tom Hardy was tied up and overwhelmed by fear, "These bastards want more than just money and sex, are they after our lives too?"

For a while, Tom Hardy found himself recalling many chaotic stories about Paris.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the car began to bounce around, and Tom Hardy, dizzied by the jostling, thought he heard a sound but before he could make a judgment, he was dragged out and thrown onto the ground.

Tom Hardy heard the sound of cars fading into the distance, knowing he had narrowly escaped death. He tried to get up, but his hands and feet were bound, and his shouts turned into whimpers against the duct tape.

He started to struggle violently.@@novelbin@@

"There's someone here," a voice suddenly came out.

Then, Tom Hardy heard the sound of rapid footsteps.

The black hood was yanked off, and Tom Hardy squeezed his eyes under the dim light, seeing only darkness.

The hands that reached out were black, the faces were black, and even the hair was black.

As dark as a host of demons.

For Tom Hardy, these black residents of District 92 were the demons.

The demons furiously tore at Tom Hardy's clothes.

"His coat is nice, it's mine!"

"Don't fight me for the belt!"

"This pair of underwear fits me best!"

"Alright, I don't need the clothes, this white guy has such tender skin..."

A myriad of dark hands sent Tom Hardy spiraling downwards.

It was like an army fleeing with self-propelled artillery, charging into a valley only to be blocked and having to blast away the obstacles one after another, carving out a road and finding a way out for life!