Too Late to Hold Me Back novel Chapter 825

Mira had come all this way specifically to exploit the muddy financial waters of the Javenaire Federation.

However, this was a closely guarded secret that could never be spoken aloud.

"Miven, Mishka, what exactly are you trying to pull here? These are my friends."

Hank Whitlock marched into the lobby, his posture instantly rigid with suspicion.

"Your friends?

We weren't doing anything, just casually pitching some stocks."

Miven replied to Hank in English, his tone defensive.

"Your stocks are nothing but a bottomless pit. Keep away from my people."

Hank wasn't backing down an inch.

"You're full of it. My stocks are highly profitable."

Despite the tough talk, the duo ultimately stood up and walked away.

Hank took a seat at their table, a serious expression on his face. "Ignore them. Those two are bad news."

Curiosity piqued, Mira asked, "What exactly do they do?"

"Miven is a sleazy securities broker who makes his living off this garbage; the junkier the stock, the fatter his cut.

He constantly targets wealthy tourists to offload his trash.

As for Mishka, the less you know about her, the better."

"You might as well tell me. It's better to understand the threat so we can prepare.

Is she an assassin, a terrorist, or the head of some terror cell?"

Harvey and the rest of the table leaned in, their ears perked.

Hank scanned their surroundings cautiously before lowering his voice. "You hit the nail on the head with the last one. She is a genuine threat linked to terror networks."

"So, by that logic, your organization doesn't fall under the same umbrella?"

"Of course not. I told you, we are legitimate businessmen.

Any extreme measures we take are purely for self-preservation and deterrence. Without significant force, we would have been swallowed whole long ago; it's impossible to survive on the international stage otherwise.

This power nap would give them enough energy to stay active for the rest of the day, guaranteeing they'd sleep soundly tonight and perfectly reset their internal clocks.

Hank pondered for a moment before asking Mira, "Are we pressed for time on the main operation?"

"No, starting our moves tomorrow will be perfect timing."

In truth, entering the market anytime within the next three days would work, but arriving a day early ensured they wouldn't miss the optimal opening window.

They could use tomorrow to thoroughly scout the local financial landscape, tracking the movements of the predatory international cartels circling the waters.

Upon returning to the suite, Mira immediately changed into her pajamas and collapsed onto the bed, completely unfazed by the prospect of sharing the room with Owen.

Owen glanced at her, feeling entirely out of his depth.

Hotels here operated differently than in Aethelgard, where a suite naturally featured a single king-sized bed, leaving a couple no choice but to sleep together.

Here, they were greeted by two separate beds.

That idiot Hank clearly had no idea how to handle logistics. Considering they were practically engaged, why on earth did he book a room with two beds?

He strongly suspected it was a deliberate, infuriating prank orchestrated by Hank.