"Make your choice. Three, two..."

Sanford ignored Cyrus's pleas, his voice cold as he counted down.

As the relentless numbers fell from Sanford's lips, Cyrus, his teeth clenched, picked up the stick and struck his left arm forcefully, his eyes squeezed shut.

A scream tore through the silence. Cyrus's face drained of color, pain etching his features as cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

Trembling, he looked up at Sanford and asked shakily, "Mr. Robles, is this sufficient?"

He hadn't faked the injury. He had truly broken his arm.

Because, to him, the threat to his arm was nothing compared to the fear of Sanford's men cutting off his manhood.

Without his manhood, what value would his life hold?

Sanford looked down at him with disdain, then turned and strode towards Maggie.

His steps were measured; the crowd parted seamlessly as he approached.

Maggie stood at the periphery, twisting her fingers nervously, uncertain of Sanford's next move. Was he about to declare their deal void and sever ties with her completely?

As she fretted, Sanford halted before her. His voice was deep and commanding.

"Mr. Kingston is correct. To win you back, I must demonstrate true sincerity."

Maggie blinked, taken aback by his words, her eyes searching his.

Without missing a beat, Sanford pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant.

“Draft a share transfer contract immediately. Allocate the branch factory in South Bay Town to Maggie Shear."

His statement sent a ripple through the onlookers.

“What? Did I hear that correctly? Is he really handing over our factory to Maggie?"

“Does this mean Maggie will be our new boss?"

“Is this his way of showing sincerity? He's really going all in to win her back."