After divorce I am a billionaire

The endless torture and oppression was so intense that Shane could hardly breathe.

He clenched his fists and unclenched again.

The anger inside his heart kept rising, and he was on the verge of outburst.

All the physical punishments were former training programs. From beginning to end, except for the teacup that was smashed over, Malcolm did not beat him.

Even if he wanted to snitch, he could not find a suitable reason.

As he was thinking about it, Malcolm knocked on the desk with his knuckles and reminded coldly, "You have fifteen seconds to hesitate.” Shane gasped, and all the thoughts that were in his brain a few seconds ago, vanished into thin air when he heard those words.

Quickly walking to the wall, he gritted his teeth, held on to his breath, and stood himself up in a position two steps away from the wall.

Being close to the wall was not the same as being up against it.

It was to not support himself from the wall, but he completely relied on his arms’ force that supported the weight of his entire body.

The wall behind he was simply a temporary support point to prevent injuries from falling down.

This training was quite challenging and very tiring.

Not to mention the fact that he was already on the verge of physical exhaustion.

He only lasted two minutes, and his arms were shaking.

If he really needed to hold on for thirty minutes, he thought he might die from the torments by Malcolm.

He hadn't been this wretched in years.

This experience, and this revenge, he would never forget for the rest of his life! Malcolm looked at him from a distance, watched his trembling arms, haughtily lifted his cup of tea and took a sip before he began to say.

"Shane Callahan, | went to Frayton years ago and neglected to train you so that you take yourself more and more seriously. You even try to take advantage of the opportunity to take away my power." Shane held back the pain and said with difficulty, "Mr. Malcolm ... are you joking? ... | wouldn't dare." Malcolm grunted lightly and lazily rubbed his brow, "You are the deputy director of the National Investigation Bureau. | taught you so much over the past years. Your ambition, your desire for power and profit, no one knows better than me." "Now, however, you have completely forgotten your original intention and become more and more strange to me." Since Shane got the power of the Callahan family, the feeling of ordering everyone and making everyone must obey, fascinated him, and he began to hope for more and to get more power.

Shane was also very clear about that, but he would not change, and did not feel that he was wrong.

"Mr. Malcolm, you're right. I...haven't changed ..." Saying those with his only remaining strength, his entire body fell backward and quickly adjusted the position with the support of the wall.

Malcolm didn't bother to listen to his perfunctory words, and his tone sounded serious, "You feel tired, feel like your arms are about to break, even feel like you can't hold on, don't you?" Shane didn't say anything, but it was obvious in his mind that he did Malcolm continued, "Back then, when | was trained by my master, it was even harder than this. | even felt that | was about to die." "But the truth is that human potential is unlimited, and in the face of absolute oppression, even the proud has to bow their heads." "And, knowing that | can't bear the punishment of failure, even if | would really risk my life, I will grit my teeth and hold on." "Shane Callahan, there's more than a little difference between me and you." Shane was slightly stunned.

He couldn't know what Malcolm meant.

Malcolm had never talked to him like this seriously, but today he was addicted to punishing him, making him to remember the past? He thought resentfully and did not say a word.

Malcolm stared at him. His tone sounded cold and cruel, "If you can't carry on for thirty minutes, it indicates you have slacked off and become weak. I'll report this and request to send you back to the training camp and let you stay there for three months." "In addition, once you leave, the deputy director's position is vacant. | intend to promote Chad temporarily. What do you think?" Although he said it was temporary, once Chad really took over, and Shane was basically not likely to get his seat back.

Shane's back stiffened. At his dry and lower lip, there was a row of blood marks form biting. Taking a deep breath, he stabilized himself and controlled his trembling arms.

"Mr. Malcolm, your arrangement is, perhaps, superfluous. | can carry on." Malcolm snickered, "That's good." That was a quick half an hour for Malcolm, who was handling business.

But for Shane, who was upside down, every second was like a year, and he had no other thought but to suffer and hold on.

Half an hour later, the timer rang out.

It was just about the end of the work too.

Shane grunted, as if relieved, and his whole body fell limply to the ground, being unable to even stand up.

Even his eyelashes were beaded with sweat. He was trembling gently, and was too weak to open his eyes.

Malcolm was just finishing his last document with a red ink pen.

He turned off the heat, got up and slowly walked to Shane's feet, "You barely passed. Remember to clean up the floor before you leave.” "Mr. Malcolm," Shane called out to him in a weak voice as he braced himself for consciousness, "Can ..." Malcolm seemed to know what he was going to say, and decisively refused: "No, but if you're not afraid that everyone in the bureau will know that you were punished in my office today, go ahead and call someone to clean it up." "If you can't stand up, you knees can always move. | won't let anyone in to bother you. Whether you want your last authority or not, it is up to you." His black eyes looked cold and merciless, quietly gazing at him who was on the ground and wretched, without changing his countenance.

NES oe” Receiving his affirmative answer, Malcolm put on his uniform and turned his head toward the door.

Just a few steps away, Malcolm turned back and added with a threat, "You'd better not have really done anything to Melissa about being a prisoner, or | will not take it lightly." Shane's eyelashes fluttered and he didn't answer.

Malcolm grunted and left the office in a dashing manner.

When he left, Shane tried so hard to raise his eyes and once again stared at the metal sign that said "Director" on the table. His fists clenched unconsciously.

The hatred that surged inside could no longer be concealed.

But after a short break, he resigned himself to getting up from the ground.

He was too tired to stand up, and he could only kneel a little bit to move. With a rag, he cleaned up the sweat on the floor and tea stains on the table, and collected the broken porcelain that was scattered around.

After doing all this, he called his subordinates and asked them to carry him back to his office. Then he took a shower and changed into clean clothes before going back to the Callahan family.

* When Malcolm returned to Lyre Spiti, he just found the house was very lively.

Keith, Chad, and Keira were all there, sitting on the couch. No one was talking. All looked serious and looked like they were waiting for him to have a little meeting.

He walked straight over and sat down next to Lyra.

Not caring if there was someone next to him, he reached out and slid his arms around Lyra's waist for a hug.

Lyra quickly slapped his hand and said in a serious manner, "What are you doing? They are watching us." His hand that was slapped turned red lightly but he didn't even let go. He hugged her waist tighter, sighing regardless, "It's hard not seeing you all day." mmMwWLIII0fifl0&1 mmMwWLIII0fifl0&1 mmMwWLII0fiflO& 1 mmMwWLIII0fifl0&1 mmMwWL1i10fif10&1 mmMwWLIiI0fiflO&1