The Poor Billionaire

Chapter 70 The Savior's Arrival

"Ah! What's happening? Is it an earthquake? Are we going to die today?" Everyone in the mall

screamed at the top of their lungs after the glass shattered to smithereens. When they saw the Rolls-

Royce Phantom homing in on a group of people, their eyes widened in shock.

"What happened? Fuck! Oh my God! Is that a Rolls-Royce Phantom? Why is it in here? It must have

gotten mangled after that collision just now!" One of the customers sighed pitifully when he saw the

scratches and bumps on the car.

"Yeah, it's badly damaged. Did you see that thick smoke coming out of the bonnet? Anyway, who is the

owner of this car? This is unbelievable! How could he smash the glass door of the Sea Square? Is he

out for blood or something?"

"I have no idea. All I know is that he would have to pay at least ten million dollars for damages. This

door was specially made. It's highly expensive. If I am to make an estimate, it's worth several hundred

thousand dollars. In addition, the Rolls-Royce hit some pieces of furniture and goods here. They should

be worth the same amount as the glass door. And to crown it all, his car is a wreck. Everything sums up

to a whopping amount. Even in my next life, I won't be able to afford it. This man has accrued debts for

himself!"

One of the onlookers who looked like a successful man analyzed the damages in the scene and did a

calculation of the cost of damages. He earned fifteen thousand dollars a month from his white-collar

job. He was a relatively high-level worker, but there was no way he could afford the damages if he was

in Farris's shoes.

Milo almost jumped out of his skin when he first heard the loud noise. He had been approaching

Horace, but he stopped dead in his tracks. "What the fuck! It scared the living daylights out of me!" he

exclaimed.

He then ordered his men who were trying to catch Laila and Macie. "Leave those bitches. Go and see

who the driver is. The license plate has been scratched. I can't tell whose car it is." ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

The vicious men were about to obey their boss's order when the Rolls-Royce Phantom started to drive

in their direction. It was too late for them to avoid the car. In the blink of an eye, they were knocked into

the air.

"Fuck! Is this really happening? Who is this fucking bastard? How dare you hit my men? You've

stepped on the lion's tail!" Milo roared when he saw his men fly in the air and then crash to the floor.

After that, he looked at the driver's seat of the Rolls-Royce!

The severity of the collision had cracked the windshield of the car. Thus, he still couldn't see who the

driver was, nor did he know that the car was Farris's.

Horace raised his head to look at the car. He breathed a sigh of relief and muttered, "Thank God. we're

safe now that Uncle Farris is here."

After he uttered the last word, he fainted. The last two heavy punches were too much for him even

though he was stronger than his peers. They had hit delicate areas and sucked out the last bit of

strength he had at that time. He suffered dizzy spells before going into a coma.

Inexplicable fear and worry suffused Laila's heart when she saw that Horace was unconscious. She

shouted anxiously, "Horace, Horace, please wake up. Don't scare me like that. Stay with me!"

"Horace, Horace, what's wrong with you? Open your eyes!" Macie was also scared. She put her index

finger under his nose to feel his breathing. After a while, she said, "It's not that bad. He's still breathing.

Laila, please calm down. He would be fine soon."

A screeching sound of tires suddenly filled the air. Farris had slammed on the brakes in a haste. The

tires couldn't bear the impact of the halt. They were on the verge of burning and puffs of smoke oozed

from all four of them.

All of a sudden, the driver seat door was kicked open. Farris got out of the car and ran to Horace as

quick as a flash. He sank to his knees and shouted, "Mr. Warren, Mr. Warren, are you okay? Please

open your eyes. Don't scare me!"

Farris's worry caused Macie to sigh. 'Indeed, Horace is a big shot. Mr. Rivera not only respects him, but

he's also worried to death about him.'

With a reassuring expression, she said to him, "Mr. Rivera, Horace would be fine. I checked his

breathing just now. It's steady. He would regain consciousness any time soon."

"Did you call 911?" Farris asked worriedly. He then carefully lifted Horace and put him in Laila's arms.

"Not yet, Mr. Rivera. I'll do that now!" Macie shook her head. She quickly took out her phone and dialed

911.

Now that Farris was done with the necessary arrangements, he suddenly shouted, "Damn it! Someone

played with fire today. And that person will be severely burned!"

He stood up and looked at Milo. After a furious huff, he cursed, "Damn it! Milo, I didn't expect it to be

you! You are courting death!"

Milo had trembled with fear when he saw Farris get out of the Rolls-Royce Phantom. It took him a while

to come to terms with the fact that his eyes weren't deceiving him. However, he instantly became angry

when Farris shouted at him. With a glare, he pointed at him and remarked, "Farris, I have to admit that

you are the most dangerous man in this city, but you are not the most influential. Have you suddenly

forgotten who I am? Or are you drunk? How dare you raise your voice at me? Do you know my uncle

has never done such a thing before?"

"Your uncle? Humph! Don't even play that card. It won't help you in any way. You have offended Mr.

Warren. Even your uncle, Dario can't protect himself from the incoming repercussions, let alone save

you!" Farris sneered with disdain. His eyes blazed as he added a warning. "Milo, you should pray to

God that Mr. Warren pulls through very soon. If anything bad happens to him, you can be sure that the

entire Russell family would be wiped away from the surface of the earth!"

"Ha-ha!" Milo burst out laughing. He tut-tutted and then fired back in a sarcastic tone. "That's totally

ridiculous. Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you think you have the right to threaten me

like that? You'd better know your place and stay there! In this city, the Russell family is way above you

in everything. You can never rub shoulders with us even in a million years. You are currently the sixth

richest man, so I advise you to be humble. Have I made myself clear? If you continue acting like this,

my uncle will take everything you own. Destroying you is a piece of cake!"

"Bah! Milo, you are such an arrogant scumbag!" Farris spat at him and continued, "Who was the

person that hurt Mr. Warren just now? I advise you to do yourself a favor by committing suicide. If you

refuse, you will suffer a fate worse than death!"

"Ha-ha! The person should commit suicide? Farris, I wasn't quite sure about this before. But now, I've

confirmed that you are out of your damn mind! How dare you meddle in my business? Are you tired of

living? Just tell me and I can be of help!" Milo chuckled with mockery. He came from the wealthiest

family, so he had zero respect for Farris.

"Milo, even if they don't want to take their own lives, I know of someone that will convince them for me."

After saying that, Farris took out his cellphone and dialed Dario's number. As the line rang, he said to

Milo, "I don't need you to do anything. Your uncle will set things straight. In a short while, you will know

that I wasn't fibbing. Dario might pass out when he finds out about the atrocity you have committed.

You dared to lay your filthy hands on Mr. Warren. Just wait and see if you come out of this situation

unscathed. Are you ready to face the dire consequences?"

The line connected after a couple of rings.

"Hello, Farris. Didn't we meet this morning? Why did you call me this time? Does Mr. Warren want to

see me?"

Dario's voice came from the other end of the line as soon as it connected.

"Dario, I hate to break it to you. But I want you to know that you're doomed. Your nephew and his men

have knocked out Mr. Warren!"

"Eh? What did you say?" Dario exclaimed as soon as he heard Farris's statement.