?Chapter 1501:
Kolton took the bottle but didn’t drink. He turned it slowly in his hands, his gaze fixed on thendscape blurring past the window, his expression unreadable.
“Jimmie,” he began abruptly, his voice low. “This move abroad… it may be for a very long time. We might never return. Do you have any regrets?”
Jimmie seemed startled by the question. He turned fully in his seat to face Kolton, his expression one of unwavering sincerity. “Kolton, that could never be. I was an orphan with nothing. You fed me. You gave me a home. Wherever you are is my home. I will follow you anywhere.”
Kolton studied the young man’s earnest face and clear eyes. A short, humorlessugh escaped him — but his smile didn’t reach his eyes, which remained cold and calcting. A flicker of his innate suspicion passed through them.
In this world, Kolton trusted no one — not even this young man he had helped. He understood all too well that human loyalty rarely survived a true test. Still, he forced a deep breath and suppressed the thought. At this point, doubting Jimmie could ruin everything. In a foreignnd, he needed Jimmie’s loyalty to maintain control.
Over the years, Kolton had always calcted gains and losses, manipting hearts and minds. Yet in the end, he was isted — alienated from family and allies alike. His own children, Kiley and the useless udius, had turned against him. A bitter irony: the strategist trapped by the very game he had mastered.
“Alright,” Kolton said, patting Jimmie’s shoulder and softening his tone. “Once we secure that oil field, I won’t let you down.”
“Thank you, Kolton,” Jimmie replied, eyes glistening with gratitude.
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Soon, the Maybach arrived at the private airport tarmac. A sleek white Gulfstream G650 waited, engines already roaring. Without dy or security checks, Kolton settled into the luxurious leather recliner. The cabin door closed.
The aircraft began its taxi, then elerated down the runway. The force of the thrust pressed Kolton back into his seat. With a thunderous roar, the private jet lifted its nose and soared into the sky.
Kolton kept his gaze fixed beyond the ne window, letting it linger as the rain-soaked city stretched beneath him for thest time.
The Cooper Group headquarters — once stamped with his name and authority — steadily shrank until it dissolved into a lone ck speck against the gray sprawl. Resentment pooled in his stare, bitterness tightening his jaw as the view disappeared.
“Maia Watson,” he muttered, lips curling. “Chris Cooper. And that damned Mr. M. Enjoy this while you can. I, Kolton Cooper, will be back.”
The private jet sliced through the cloud cover, its nose turning toward his destination.
Far away, in the southern outskirts beyond Kyle’s concealed vi, Maia burst through the door without warning and sprinted straight for the thick forest lining the estate.
“Quick — she’s relocating!” Figures concealed within the darkness snapped to alert, muscles coiling as the team from The Mask reacted instantly. Their directive allowed no hesitation. Maia’s safety outweighed everything, including their own lives. Her abrupt and unnned flight shattered their expectations, forcing an immediate shift.
“After her! Do not let her out of sight!”
The order came from Maynard Smith, a veteran operative of The Mask, hardened by years of pursuit and counter-surveince. With a sharp hand signal, he directed the remaining four members forward, and they melted into motion, trailing her as silently as shadows.
Once Maia plunged deeper into the forest — where the ground twisted unevenly and vehicles were useless — the team abandoned their cars and continued on foot. To remain unseen, they kept roughly fifty yards back, weaving between trees in a tight triangr formation honed by years of training.
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