Chapter 563 Threatening Zhuo Haoyan

• Clearly, he had no clue Lin Nuannuan had shown up. He just shot Zachary a look, telling him to go dig it up. By the time he wrapped the meeting, he finally heard: Jovienne had stormed off. And before heading back to the Xenakis residence, she’d gone alone to North Court. That was where he used to practice shooting. What the hell did she go there for? “Anything unusual at the company today?” Hendrik asked, guarded. “Aside from Zhou from Worry-Free Media calling in, nothing seemed off,” Zachary thought for a beat, then added, “Laughing Wind called too, but it sounded like a project inquiry.” “Did she say anything when she left?” Hendrik checked his phone again. Not a single unread message. On any other day, even if she clocked out one minute early, she’d leave him a note. “Cover my social tonight.” He couldn’t sit still another second. He grabbed his keys and headed out. Something was definitely wrong. His car had barely pulled out of the underground lot when, almost at the same moment, far out on the edge of Sparaville, Cao Yingsheng got word he’d left. “Move.” No sooner had the order dropped than Zhuo Haoyan—who’d been about to head home from work—got boxed in mid-route by a few men who came out of nowhere. “Who the hell are you?!” The sudden ambush drained the color from his face. Still, he forced his eyes wide, trying to memorize every face. Gutsy, in a dumb way. “Be good. We just want to ask you something. Nobody’s laying hands on you.” The leader, Zhang Yuan, didn’t bother with manners. He plucked the cigar from between Zhuo Haoyan’s fingers and slid it between his own lips. “W-what do you want to know?” When he saw the guy in the back pull a pistol and take a flanking stance, real fear hit Zhuo Haoyan. “The project between Zhuo’ao and Laughing Wind. How far along is it?” Zhang Yuan watched him with a half-smile. “Who sent you? Why are you asking this?!” Even under a question that could spill trade secrets, Zhuo Haoyan managed to hang on to a shred of sense. “You’re asked, you answer. Why so chatty?!” Eager for results, Zhang Yuan cracked him with a hard punch, a warning. Wedged in the driver’s seat with his hefty frame, Zhuo Haoyan already felt cramped. That punch nearly killed him. He sucked air through his teeth, too scared to say another extra word. “Talk. How far has the project gotten?” Same question, thrown back at him. This time, Zhuo Haoyan ditched the backtalk and spilled, straight up. He talked so fast the others started doubting whether the intel on their target was even accurate— Supposedly the Zhuo’ao young master was stubborn and arrogant, a nightmare to handle. Who knew one punch would do it, no threats needed, case closed. Zhang Yuan listened, thought for a second, then added, “You’d better make sure every word you said is true. Otherwise my fists will be paying you a visit day and night.” “I-it’s true! Every word!” Zhuo Haoyan waved his hands again and again. All he wanted now was to get out in one piece. Lying wasn’t on his mind. After recording every word, the men checked their surroundings, then sprinted to a black Mercedes not far off and took off without a backward glance. “Help! They’re trying to kill me!” As soon as they left, Zhuo Haoyan yanked his door shut and grabbed his phone to call the cops. He’d toned it down a lot after landing the deal with Laughing Wind. So why the threats? Who could he even complain to? Then a thought hit— “Hey, Dad.” He didn’t dare waste a second and dialed Zhuo Tingjun as fast as he could, telling him someone had probed into the project timeline. “Looks like someone’s getting antsy.” The old fox was still the old fox. After hearing him out, Zhuo Tingjun’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t go anywhere. Get your butt home and stay put.” It wouldn’t be long before a storm tore through Sparaville. First in line to take the hit would be the project between Laughing Wind and Zhuo’ao. As for who was fanning the flames behind the scenes… A few names lined up in Zhuo Tingjun’s head. “We’ll see who walks away with the kill.” He dropped the hard line, eyes turning steely—like everything was already in the palm of his hand.