The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 227: Determined to Win]

Santa Monica, Hawke and Edward entered the safe house and met with Campos, who was waiting for them.

When Campos saw Hawke, he handed over several photos. "Fiona found a girl named Irene at Caltech," he said. Hawke took a look at the pictures. The girl in the photos was about eighteen and very pretty.

Campos continued, "According to Fiona's discreet inquiries, Irene started dating an off-campus boyfriend earlier this year. The boyfriend sometimes drove to the school apartment on weekends. According to those who saw him, he resembles Guerrero, the guy who committed suicide."

Hawke had not yet figured out how to trigger this incident and said directly, "Let's keep a long-term watch; for now, don't alert her."

He asked another question: "What's the situation over at St. Beatrice Church and the Welfare School?"

Campos replied, "On the surface, everything seems the same as before. Garcia and I went in with Kingsley, and it felt like their security was much tighter than before."

Hawke hesitated momentarily but said, "Check it out, but don't make contact with the church. We can investigate through the children. The last boy Kingsley was with came from Guatemala, which indicates they have used Latin American children more than once."

He took this approach for the sake of Campos and his team. People were not emotionless animals. The Butterfly Consulting Company, also from Latin America, would certainly have its own perspective on this.

Campos perked up. "Boss, this is our specialty. We know exactly where to start."

Hawke nodded. Most of the elite from Butterfly Consulting had previously worked as police in Mexico. Campos was smart and considered many aspects: "If we do uncover something, what then?"

Hawke replied, "Find someone to go to Brazil or Colombia, keep changing locations, and send emails to the world's media."

"Got it," Campos said. This kind of task was not difficult for him.

...

After leaving the safe house, Hawke felt inexplicably lighter. Even Edward had started whistling a cheerful little tune. Campos had close ties with the Mexican immigrants and would soon find some clues.

Feeling a rare moment of downtime, when Hawke returned to the office, Edward came over to ask for time off. Hawke freely granted him leave.

Thinking about the promise made with Erica last night, he planned to go practice shooting in the afternoon. Before he could reach out to Erica, a call came in.

Emma Batson, the broker representing BlackRock's San Francisco office, wanted to visit in the afternoon to discuss investment matters again. Hawke had to cancel his original plans and spent some time scrolling through Twitter in his office.

His focus remained on the Ice Bucket Challenge. As more people participated, unexpected incidents began occurring. Some faced electric shocks, while others, like the bullies from Cleveland, doused their classmates with ice water mixed with cigarette butts, mud, and vomit.

The latter caused quite a stir on Twitter. Hawke thought for a moment and directly forwarded the video to Tom Cruise. Incidents involving school bullying could not be entirely prevented.

...

Venice, Manhattan Beach.

The afternoon sun shone brightly. Edward drove his Audi A8 to the beach and turned into the parking lot, quickly spotting Michael, who was riding a motorcycle.

Michael, head wrapped in a scarf and looking gloomy, stared longingly at the bikini-clad beauties on the beach across from him.

Edward strolled over casually and asked, "Where are the girls?"

Michael pointed to a group of girls gathered nearby and said, "Over there. See the long-haired woman in the orange bikini? The one with the best figure, that's Maria Collins. The girl in the green polka dot swimsuit next to her is her daughter, Dorothy."

He added, "I made sure to check; today is Dorothy's class beach day."

"Beach day?" Edward adjusted the rearview mirror of the motorcycle, checking out his stylish look. "I love this swimsuit day."

Michael looked puzzled. "Savior, you're in the high-income class now, with so many beautiful women in Los Angeles. Why look for someone older who's divorced and has kids?"

Edward tapped the handle of his motorcycle. "You don't understand the appeal of women in their age group. They're not comparable to those inexperienced girls. No matter what you want, they'll be willing to cooperate and make it happen. Understand what emotional value means? A woman in this age group can help elevate your emotional value to new heights."

Michael stood firm. "I still prefer younger women; eighteen is the best."

...

Not wanting to debate further, Edward grabbed his beach bag and headed toward the changing room. After changing into his swim trunks, he admired his tanned physique in the changing mirror.

Over the past year, he had spent a lot of time working out and training with Hawke. While he might not have been extraordinarily muscular, the definition was noticeable.

Outside, a commotion ensued. Edward put on his beach shoes, hurried out, and quickly located his target, ignoring Maria Collins in a bright red bikini, surrounded by men vying for her attention.

His gaze fell on Dorothy. As someone experienced in this area, Edward knew that once he won over the child, getting close to the mother would be easier.

He patiently waited for an opening instead of rushing in. Children were always full of energy, and that energy in a crowd could sometimes lead to instability.

Finally, Edward saw his chance. Dorothy and another girl ran toward the water, laughing and playing, unaware of a beach vehicle barreling toward them.

The crowd scattered, and Dorothy fell on the sand, while her friend ran off. Edward rushed forward, grabbing her arm, shouting, "Come on! Hurry!"

When Dorothy looked back, she saw the vehicle zoom past, nearly on the spot where she had just fallen. Edward urged her onward: "This place isn't safe; let's get to higher ground!"

Dorothy lost her shoes but held tightly to Edward's hand until they reached the steps at an outdoor shower station.

He paused to ask, "Are you hurt?"

Gasping for breath, Dorothy took a while to catch her breath before replying, "I'm okay."

She looked up at Edward and shyly said, "Thank you for saving me."

"It was nothing, just a little help," Edward waved off, then asked, "Where are your parents?"

Dorothy snapped back into reality. "Right, my mom. Where's my mom?"

Amid the chaos on the beach, the beach vehicle had finally come to a stop, and many parents were searching for their children.

Dorothy spotted Maria in the crowd and waved, "Mom! Mom!"

Maria, tall and leggy, followed the sound, quickly jogging over to embrace Dorothy. "Sweetheart, you scared me!"

"I'm okay," Dorothy quietly pointed at Edward. "This gentleman saved me. If it weren't for him pulling me up and bringing me here, I would have been hit by that vehicle."

Wearing a bikini, Maria genuinely thanked him, "Thank you, thank you for helping Dorothy."

Edward smiled, "Just a bit of help, no need to mention it."

Maria had a number of African American friends from her ex-husband's team and didn't mind him at all; in fact, she thought he looked quite handsome when he smiled.

Edward played it cool and gestured to Dorothy. "She's safe now; she's in your hands. Goodbye."

Maria quickly called out to him, "Wait, you can't just leave like that. You saved Dorothy..."

The two sides pulled together and ultimately walked toward the changing room.

When Edward emerged from the changing room in designer attire, he exuded a confident demeanor befitting his executive role at Twitter, even driving out in the latest high-end Audi A8.

He perfectly embodied the image of a successful man.

It was worth mentioning that attire and cars could effectively reduce the communication costs between people.

When Maria and Edward met up again, they successfully exchanged contact information. She even invited him out to dinner to express her gratitude.

...

At Twitter, in the fourth-floor reception room.

Emma Batson's second formal meeting with Hawke ultimately failed to reach an agreement.

There was an irreconcilable difference between BlackRock and Twitter on a crucial issue. The former demanded that the latter maintain a consistent stance on significant social issues, but Hawke could never agree to that.

Since there was no basis for cooperation, continuing the conversation seemed pointless.

Emma Batson excused herself and headed downstairs.

...

Hawke stepped out of the reception room and into his office, standing by the window, watching the business car start its engine below.

Would BlackRock try other means to achieve what they couldn't at the negotiation table?

Hawke made no speculations but focused on prevention. He made a call, saying, "Have someone follow Emma Batson around the clock."

Business matters were never solved solely through business means.

...

Inside the traveling business vehicle, Emma Batson took out her phone and dialed Douglas. "I didn't handle the work as best as I could. I tried every way to convince Hawke Osment to cooperate with BlackRock, but he finally refused."

Douglas was mentally prepared for this. "They ultimately rejected BlackRock's goodwill."

Emma stated bluntly, "Because of our differing positions."

Douglas understood the implication and replied, "My private jet is leaving for Los Angeles in two hours. You wait for me at the hotel, and once I arrive in L.A., we can discuss it further."

"Sure, I'll be at the Beverly Hilton," Emma provided her room number without hesitation.

Douglas acknowledged and hung up the phone.

In recent times, Twitter had generated considerable reactions worldwide, and its influence was visibly growing.

BlackRock was determined to achieve their goal. This was closely tied to the turnaround plan that BlackRock and Vanguard International had devised for the donkey party.

*****

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