Goodbye, Saintess. Novel

---- Chapter 141 "He's one of Baron Goldman's mooks. And yet Baron refuses to apologize or make amends for what | went through! Instead, he sided with that jerk against me!" A flicker of sympathy crossed Harvey's eyes. He ignored Baron for a moment. "My poor grandson! Quick, back to my car. | brought a doctor with me. Ask her to help you, but be respectful. She's the very Goddess of Medicine. You leave this to me, Terry." Terry nodded like a schoolboy doing as he was told and climbed into Harvey's car.

He dropped the act for a second, turning to glare at Baron and me with a look that could curdle milk. Baron muttered, "Shit, we've got a problem." "Problem?" | glanced at the old man. "Nice suit, but what's so dangerous about that bastard's grandfather?" "If Harvey Amos is famous for anything, it's that his grandson can do no wrong in his eyes. This isn't the first time Terry's caused trouble. And every time, his grandfather swoops in to clean up the mess. That's why the kid turned into such an asshat. "With Harvey here, neither of us gets out clean. And look at the brute who drove his car.

That's his bodyguard. He's a three-time MMA champion in Astergrad. If he starts swinging, none of my ---- men will stand a chance." He let out a weary sigh, then squared his shoulders. "But don't worry. My only goal is to protect you. I'd rather have my skull crushed than let you be cut by a shard of glass." His loyalty touched me again, even as helplessness crept in. Only today had it hit me that the elites were all guarded by professionals-men trained in real combat, not just thugs. And here stood a six-foot-six MMA champion right in front of me.

The wealthy didn't just have money and connections. They had raw muscle to back them up when things turned violent. People like me never stood a chance. Which meant that | would need to hire professional fighters as bodyguards as well. Harvey stepped forward, his face grim. "Your associate injured my grandson. That's injustice, wouldn't you say? What do you propose to set things right?" "Hey, old man, your grandson started it. My associate had no choice," Baron snapped, teeth clenched. "You don't like it? Fine, name your price.

But you're not touching my mentor." "You called that brat your mentor?" Harvey sneered, giving me a brief glance. "Don't be ridiculous. He's the one who hurt Terry, so he's the one who'll pay. He'll kneel, and we'll smash three bottles over his head. And | expect an apology." ---- He jabbed a finger at Baron. "You're beneath me, Goldman. You don't get to negotiate. This is my one and only offer. Don't play the hero. You don't want me involved." Harvey's bodyguard loomed forward, menace written across every line of his frame. "No! You can't! You can't touch this man-I swear it.

Not even you, Amos!" Baron shouted. "Damn it, what if | take his place?" "You?" Harvey said flatly. "Thirty bottles, then." Baron clenched his jaw. "Deal."