Chapter 494: Chapter 494

Thomas had always been eager to cozy up to that Harrison family kid, hoping to forge connections with the Harrison.

If this was all because of Harrison, then it certainly made sense.

After mentioning Harrison’s name, Mr. Thomas kept his eyes fixed on Sinclair, waiting for his reaction.

Sinclair merely curled his lips in response, lifting the teacup beside him for a slow, deliberate sip before setting it back down on the saucer.

So it really was that little bastard!

Seemed time, the Thomas family would have to swallow their losses.

Mr. Thomas’s expression darkened, his eyes clouded with unreadable emotions.

Harrison alone was nothing to him, of course.

But his father and the entire Harrison family—wasn’t someone you could easily take on.

Just then, that deep, chilling voice spoke again.

"Are you planning to let this slide, Mr.Thomas?"

Sinclair had taken in every shift in Mr.Thomas’s expression, his thin lips curling into a cold, merciless smile.

"If not, then what else can I do?"

Mr. Thomas reined in the fury in his eyes, replacing it with bitter resignation as he turned to Sinclair.

"Our humble Thomas family is in no position to offend the mighty Harrison family.

We can only swallow our pride and endure the humiliation."

"President Thomas, you’re being too modest."

Sinclair’s slender fingers absently traced the dark jade ring on his hand, his gaze deepening with each passing second.

"A family that could quietly secure the largest oilfield deal right under the noses of the Big Three can hardly be called ’humble.’"

His measured tone carried the unmistakable authority of someone accustomed to absolute power.

Mr. Thomas’s heart lurched.

The butler looked up at Sinclair in disbelief.

The oilfield business was nothing short of a goldmine—so lucrative that every major family, including the Big Three, had been vying for it.

It had taken Mr. Thomas two years of meticulous planning to finalize the deal before anyone else could react.

Fearing unwanted attention, he had gone to great lengths to keep the news under wraps.

Not even his own son, Thomas, knew the details.

So how did Sinclair find out?

Mr. Thomas’s grip on his cane tightened, his deep-set eyes betraying a storm of emotions he could no longer conceal.

"The Big Three have dominated E Country’s business world for far too long," Sinclair said, his thin lips curling into a cold, calculated smile.

"It’s time for a change of guard."

"Since President Thomas harbors such ambitions, why not seize this opportunity to give it a try?"

The deepest defenses in Mr. Thomas’s heart showed the faintest signs of crumbling at those words.

But he was no greenhorn. Suppressing his true emotions, he fixed Sinclair with a heavy, inscrutable gaze.

"I’m afraid I don’t follow, President Luther.

What exactly do you mean?"

"Let’s not mince words," Sinclair replied, his tone cool and deliberate, yet carrying an undeniable weight.

"I’m willing to help you, President Thomas—to replace the Harrison family."

Four simple words, casually spoken, yet they carried the weight of a storm.

*Replace the Harrison family.*

His most deeply buried ambition, laid bare by another.

Mr. Thomas froze where he stood, his eyes churning with turmoil as he struggled to maintain his composed expression.

"President Luther, the Harrison family isn’t an easy opponent to take down," he finally managed after a long pause, his voice laced with implication.

"If anything goes wrong, you could walk away unscathed—return to San Francisco.

But the Thomas family... we’d be left to face the consequences."

This old fox wants guarantees from Sinclair—to take no risks at all.

What kind of fool’s paradise is this?

Ramsey pressed his lips into a thin line, his icy gaze fixed on Mr. Thomas.

"Mr. Thomas, as a businessman, you should know better than anyone," Sinclair paused what he was doing, lifting his eyes to regard Mr. Thomas with detached coolness, his thin lips curling into a frosty smile.

"Risk and opportunity always go hand in hand.

Otherwise," he continued, his dark, penetrating eyes narrowing slightly, his tone deliberate and indifferent, "it’s nothing but a trap."

Calculating and airtight—just as expected. Mr. Thomas pressed his lips together, momentarily at a loss for words, though his mind raced.

Securing the oil mine deal had always been about elevating the Thomas family into the upper echelons of E Country’s elite.

With Sinclair’s backing, it would be like adding wings to a tiger—unstoppable.

No matter how he looked at it, this arrangement only benefited the Thomas family.

Yet the more advantageous it seemed, the more uneasy he felt, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

From the very beginning, it was as if Sinclair had been steering him like a puppet.

Mr. Thomas’s expression darkened, his eyes shadowed with suspicion.

"What exactly is President Luther’s ultimate goal?"

"President Thomas only needs to understand that my options extend far beyond the Thomas family."

Sinclair’s dark eyes narrowed slightly, exuding an air of cold superiority.

"But your family, has no better path forward."

His voice was icy and unyielding, leaving no room for argument.

The atmosphere in the living room grew increasingly tense.

Sinclair’s slender, elegant fingers plucked a cigarette from the pack and brought it to his lips.

With a flick of his lighter, a blue flame cast shadows across his strikingly handsome face.

Sinclair took a slow drag, exhaling the smoke in a languid stream, his lips curling into a faint, mocking smile as he regarded Mr. Thomas.

"My patience has its limits, Mr. Thomas.

First courtesy, then force.

In that moment, Mr. Thomas understood Sinclair’s meaning with perfect clarity.

From the very beginning, this man had never intended to give him—or the Thomas family—any other choice.

"I’m willing to cooperate with you, Mr. Luther," Mr. Thomas said, narrowing his eyes.

"But before that, I hope you’ll release my son." "Naturally."

Mr. Thomas’s furrowed brows had just relaxed when they knitted together again at the man’s next words.

"Just not right now."

Sinclair flicked the ash from his cigarette with slender, well-defined fingers, his thin lips curling into a chilling smirk.

"Mr. Thomas is injured and shouldn’t be moved for now.

Once he’s recovered enough, I’ll naturally have him sent back."

So he was using Thomas as leverage to control him?

The warmth in Mr. Thomas’s eyes plummeted, frost nearly crystallizing in their depths.

"President Luther, you—"

The smirk on Sinclair’s lips deepened as his dark, inscrutable gaze remained fixed on Mr. Thomas.

"I don’t like repeating myself, and I don’t change my mind."

Mr. Thomas was left speechless, caught between fury and helplessness, frozen in place.

After decades of life, this was the first time a younger man had rendered him utterly powerless with just a few words.

I should return to my wife."

Sinclair crushed the half-burned cigarette into the ashtray with those same elegant fingers before rising leisurely from the sofa.

"Mr. Thomas, I look forward to our cooperation."

Not daring to put on airs, Mr. Thomas stood as well.

But as he stared at that strikingly handsome face, no polite words would come.

Sinclair curled his lips slightly without another word, turning on his heel with long strides and walking away.

His silhouette, backlit by the light, exuded an icy, domineering aura—sharp as a glacial peak.

"Go," Mr. Thomas slumped back onto the sofa, his gaze fixed coldly on the direction Sinclair had left.

The butler had been frozen in shock by Sinclair’s bold actions, only snapping back to reality at Mr. Thomas’s command.

In an instant, the living room was empty except for Mr. Thomas.

A suffocating silence settled over the air. Damn it!

One after another, they all dared to scheme against him!

Mr. Thomas narrowed his eyes, suddenly seizing his cane and sweeping the tea set off the table with a violent motion.

The exquisite porcelain shattered across the floor, tea splattering in all directions. But it wasn’t enough.

Still seething, he struck out again, sending nearby vases crashing to the ground.

The floor was now a wreckage of broken shards and spilled tea.

After venting his rage, he finally pulled out his phone, panting heavily, and dialed Logan’s number.

Bring everyone back now."

Logan was clearly taken aback by the order.

"Sir, what happened?"

"They’ve already made it to me, and you’re still wasting time surrounding that place?

Get your asses back here!"

Before Logan could respond, the line went dead—or rather, Mr. Thomas had hurled his phone in fury.

*Made it to the boss?*

*How the hell is that possible?!*

The moment the meaning sank in, Logan’s pupils contracted sharply, his eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at the hotel before him.

*Someone actually slipped right past us?!*

Without another second’s hesitation, Logan barked orders to his men, signaling an immediate retreat.

Since they could leave the hotel without anyone noticing, they could just as easily surround them without detection.

In this operation, who was the hunter and who was the prey remained uncertain.

The Thomas family quickly withdrew, and the area around the hotel returned to its usual quiet.

"Boss, they’re gone."

Vicente paused in assembling his firearm upon hearing his subordinate’s report, his deep eyes flickering with a hint of admiration.

Had Sinclair already dealt with Mr. Thomas so swiftly?

This man truly was formidable.

Upstairs, Camilla and Melissa were busy selecting evening gowns, completely unaware that a looming threat around them had been silently neutralized.