My Husband Wants Me Dead (Esther and Bradley)

Chapter 910

Bradley reached out for the envelope, pulling out the documents one by one. Inside the envelope were

Esther's personal details. He had seen a similar set of data from Dylan earlier, but the information he

now held was more comprehensive.

"Mr. Warner, stop hurting my two nieces," Oliver remarked.

Bradley sat opposite Oliver and scrutinized him, attempting to find a flaw in the documents. However,

the files were so flawless that he couldn't find anything amiss.

"Are they really not the same person?" he asked.

Oliver countered, "On what basis do you assume they're the same person? Just because they are

twins and share the same name?

"Bradley, I'm here tonight to give you a final warning. Esther is not as weak and helpless as her sister. If

you persist in bothering her, you'll bear the consequences."

Bradley suddenly laughed wildly. "Mr. Quill, do you think I would be afraid of her?"

"I don't need you to fear her. I only hope you won't disturb her," Oliver replied, prompting a flicker of

confusion in Bradley.

Bradley sneered. "Oh? Will you try to bankrupt me again?"

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Try me."

Bradley scornfully glanced at Oliver, then picked up the files and looked down at Oliver. His tone was

rude. "Unless I'm dead, I won't let go. You'll never make me back off."

"Is that so?"

Bradley smirked. With the files in hand, he strode into the vast night.

Once inside the car, he instructed, "Dylan, investigate the Quills for me."

"Investigate the Quills? To what extent?" Dylan asked in astonishment.

"Everything. I want the Quills to go bankrupt!" he demanded.

Dylan glanced at the murderous Bradley from the rearview mirror and replied, "Mr. Warner, it's probably

very difficult for them to go bankrupt based on their current abilities."

"Get me information on all the personnel and asset distributions of the Quills within a week," Bradley Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

commanded.

"As you wish," Dylan agreed.

Bradley raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with a bloodthirsty glint. "Stop the car."

Dylan lightly stepped on the brake.

Bradley pushed open the car door and walked into the boundless night alone. He walked to a historical

street bustling with people. Couples strolled hand in hand, making him appear lonely.

He walked into a courtyard where a middle-aged man respectfully approached him. "Mr. Warner, I've

been waiting for you."

The man led Bradley into a building with the utmost deference.

Initially, Bradley had made a deal with Richard, who had handed over his covert forces.

Bradley had yet to make any moves after receiving it. He was observing quietly and secretly.

"How should I address you?" he asked.

Gavin Jager poured a drink for Bradley and said humbly, "Gavin Jager."

Upon hearing his name, Bradley glanced at Gavin. He was familiar with Gavin's background—he was a

martial artist who transitioned into a security company. Now renowned nationwide, this company

specialized in providing security services to affluent families and celebrities during performances.

"Mr. Jager, you are part of his hidden forces?"