Joseph remained perfectly calm. "He might be cunning, but I'm no pushover."
Sullivan's business acumen was lacking, but his insidious schemes couldn't be underestimated. Yet, even the most cunning man was an amateur in front of a professional lawyer.
"I know you're capable," Raymond said, "but I'm worried Sullivan will get desperate and try to hurt you."
"Don't worry, I have your men with me."
"Good. Send me the address when you arrive. I'll head over too." Raymond was still uneasy. After all, this was Sullivan's home turf. Since Joseph and Vivica were his guests, he'd be responsible if anything happened to them.
Joseph didn't refuse. He knew he couldn't. The bodyguards were Raymond's men, and they would ultimately answer to him.
Not long after he hung up, the car came to a stop.
Sullivan was waiting in a private lounge, a pot of fine tea steeping as he anticipated Joseph's arrival.
"Mr. Baird, this is an excellent vintage. Please, have a taste." Sullivan was dressed in a traditional silk suit, a delicate porcelain cup in one hand and a set of prayer beads in the other, projecting the composed aura of a retired tycoon, a far cry from his humble beginnings. He had spent decades enjoying the wealth and status he'd stolen from his own brother, and now he put on airs with every gesture.
Joseph sat down cross-legged, ignoring the offered cup. He flipped over a clean one and poured himself a glass of hot water from the teapot.

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