Arturo's face twisted in disgust, his fingers clenching the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles whitened. His voice dripped with mocking arrogance, the kind only a man drunk on decades of unchecked power could muster.
"Do you think I'm lying?" I asked, my voice calm, almost amused, but my eyes burned with something feral, something that promised pain.
Arturo scoffed, his lips twisting into a sneer. "Mr. Jack…" he spat, his voice laced with condescension, "I think even bragging needs to be… in limit." He leaned forward, his gaze sharp, mocking.
"You think I'm an idiot?" His voice rose, cold, venomous. "Why would those underworld scum listen to a nobody like you—some foreign boy with just a little money?" His lips curled in disdain.
"Do you think I believe you have reached only in Mexico?" He laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Even if your net worth exceeds $100 billion—" His eyes gleamed with mockery. "It's nothing compared to the empire I've built."
