The police then told me that they had found the car that hit me earlier—it was an unlicensed pink Maserati. When they showed me the surveillance footage, I recognized the familiar figure behind the wheel. A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I called up an old friend.
"Get some people together and help me settle a score. I’ll pay you 100,000 once it’s done."
I wasn’t going to let either the cheating scumbag or the reckless driver get away with it.
I had heard Cassandra used Sanz's money to open a beauty salon for high-end clients. When I arrived, parked right outside among the luxury cars was the unmistakable pink Maserati—the very car Cassandra had bought with the million dollars Sanz had "compensated" her with. And the first thing she did after getting that car was come after me.
My lips curled into a cold sneer as I turned to the security team I brought along.
"Smash it."
Without hesitation, they followed my command. Even before I finished speaking, the first hammer had already come crashing down, leaving a deep dent. The car alarm blared, drawing the attention of everyone inside the salon.