Chapter 310

Finley adopted his most sincere expression. "Mr. Giordano," he said, "please give me another chance. I erred, but I promise to redeem myself and the Northern District through significant achievement."

Atlas's face remained taut, his eyes blazing with fury. Several Northern District enforcers stepped forward, hands clasped respectfully. "Mr. Giordano," they said, "Mr. Moore has admitted his mistake. Perhaps some leniency is warranted?" Another added, "He acted foolishly, but his willingness to redeem himself deserves a chance to prove his loyalty. Sir, your wisdom and pragmatism are renowned. This isn't worth your time or energy; consider it discarding worthless trash."

Atlas took a deep breath, their words clearly affecting him. Despite his contempt for Finley, he acknowledged Finley's continued usefulness. Thus, though the thought of sparing Finley angered him, he chose to endure it.

Dylan and Natasha exchanged worried glances. They couldn't believe Atlas was letting this slide—a man of his pride and ruthlessness tolerating such humiliation? More concerning was the possibility of reconciliation, which would completely derail their plan to sow discord between them.

Finley smirked, sensing the shift in the room. "Mr. Giordano, I was wrong," he admitted, though his tone held a hint of smugness. "But Dylan and Natasha aren't innocent. They orchestrated everything." He sneered. "It began when that woman invited me and… her… to a West End party."

Natasha laughed sharply, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "So, I'm to blame because you slept with Atlas's woman?" She folded her arms, her eyes narrowing. "What's next, Finley? Will you claim I control your impulses? Should I fetch scissors and remedy that right now?"

Her words were sharp, leaving Finley with a twisted expression of anger and frustration. Dylan and Andrew chuckled at her brutal jab.

Atlas roared, his voice a thunderclap. "Enough! This ends now. Anyone who mentions this again will have their tongue cut out!"

Andrew remained calm, tilting his head. "Mr. Giordano, that's… excessive. People have a right to speak."

Atlas's eyes iced over. "Andrew, cease testing my patience."

Finley quickly interjected, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Andrew, Mr. Giordano and I are friends again. Your schemes to divide us are futile."

Several Northern District enforcers glared at Andrew, their hostility palpable. "Kid, you're asking for trouble," one snarled. "This is Northern District business. Stay out of it." Another added, "You can talk, but we'll rip your mouth off if we choose."

Andrew shrugged, unfazed. "I can't take on the entire Northern District. But Mr. Giordano should know something—it would be an insult if he didn't."

Atlas frowned, intrigued. "What is it?"

Finley immediately tried to intervene. "Mr. Giordano, ignore him. He's stirring trouble—let's leave."

Atlas raised a hand, silencing Finley with a cold glare. "No. I want to see this kid's trick." Having swallowed the humiliation, Atlas felt untouchable; there was nothing left to fear.