Meanwhile, Chayce, having been forcefully ejected, lay curled up on the ground, clutching his hand and wailing in pain.

Between his cries, he berated his men, "You ungrateful lot! I have taken care of you for nothing."

Under immense stress, one of the men leaned in and whispered urgently to Chayce, "Give the money back. That man is Isaac Johnston. If he finds out our painting was a sham and we extorted two hundred thousand dollars from him, he'll surely retaliate."

Chayce's eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you rambling about?"

"I'm not lying. Just look at his car parked over there. And the ease with which he handed over two hundred thousand. It's clear he's extremely wealthy."

Chayce's gaze followed to the roadside, then back to Isaac, recalling the pain in his hand.

He trembled, fear overtaking him.

He prostrated himself.

"This is all my fault. Please, don't stoop to my level. Let me off the hook." With that, Chayce fumbled for a check and handed it over.

Forrest, who had been feigning injury, sprang to his feet and snatched the check. "Don't be so arrogant, preying on others Like this."

He then pulled out his wallet and tossed a wad of cash at Chayce.

"This is what your painting is truly worth."

One Chayce's men collected the cash, amounting to only eight or nine hundred dollars.

Chayce, overwhelmed, kept repeating, "That's enough, that's more than enough."

With the issue resolved, they allowed Chayce to leave.

Isaac, taking Camila's hand, began to walk away.

"Wait for me!" Forrest called after them.

Isaac turned, giving Forrest a piercing glare. "Stay away!"

Forrest was taken aback by Isaac's vehement tone.

"What's the issue? Did I piss you off?" He lifted his gaze, puffing out his chest, bolstered by Camila's presence.