Noticing that Wesley was just an ordinary man, Vincent Tangwen kindly advised, "Don't get worked up, Mr. Gibbs. A gentleman has already ordered for you and even paid in advance.
So, if I were you, I'd eat quietly as requested and wait patiently. Maybe that important person wants to observe you secretly."
Wesley, inexperienced as he was, hesitated for a few seconds. But he wasn't foolish—nothing serious was likely to happen in such a public setting. Obediently, he sat down and tried his best to appear natural.
When Vincent personally poured him a glass of wine, explaining it was a $6,000 bottle of Lafite, Wesley couldn't keep his composure anymore. His whole body tensed up, and he stammered a thank you, his palms and forehead breaking into a sweat as he awkwardly took a sip.
The meal progressed from aperitifs to appetizers, soup, two main courses with sides, dessert, and post-dinner drinks. Wesley finished it all in just over half an hour, prompting Vincent, who had served him throughout, to silently shake his head.
Vincent silently prayed that the important person dining at a discreet table nearby—observing Wesley—would not be displeased with Wesley's lack of etiquette.
At this thought, Vincent couldn't help but glance in William's direction.
The quick glance didn't escape the attention of the restaurant manager standing a meter behind William. The manager glared at Vincent.
The manager had personally come to serve William because, just days earlier, William had made headlines by cheerfully recommending a certain Chinese restaurant to the paparazzi. The restaurant appeared in most newspapers and TV news programs the next day, skyrocketing from moderate fame to immense popularity.
Rumor had it that Michelin inspectors visited the restaurant secretly three days after the news broke. Whether it would earn a Michelin star was still uncertain, but its business had undeniably boomed. The manager of William's current restaurant dared not show the slightest neglect.
Fortunately, this restaurant already held three Michelin stars, so the manager refrained from publicizing William's presence. His only thought was to serve this media darling impeccably and leave no room for criticism.
After about half an hour, William set down his wine glass, smiled at the manager, and said, "Thank you. It was excellent. Please pass on my compliments to Chef Hansen."
The manager was overjoyed, bowing deeply with a smile. "Certainly, Mr. Devonshire. I will convey your words to Chef Hansen. It's an honor for our restaurant to receive your praise."
"Good." After settling the bill, William left the restaurant and drove away.
About ten minutes later, Wesley followed Vincent out to a car. They drove to the New York Yacht Club. As soon as Wesley got out of the car, a middle-aged man approached him with several men in security uniforms.
"Mr. Wesley Gibbs?"
Looking at the grand Yacht Club sign, Wesley nodded blankly.
The middle-aged man showed no sign of annoyance at Wesley's demeanor and instead smiled warmly. "Mr. Gibbs, I'm Martin Donner, the manager of the New York Yacht Club. Please follow me."
"Mr. Donner, may I ask who I'm meeting?" Wesley stammered nervously.
"Apologies, Mr. Gibbs. You'll understand once you meet the distinguished guest," Martin replied with a polite gesture for Wesley to follow him onto a speedboat.
Go out to sea? Wesley hesitated briefly but soon shook his head. He was just an ordinary man with no savings, no car, no house, and no career. No one would go to such lengths to kidnap him.
Still, as the speedboat set off, Wesley couldn't help letting his imagination run wild.
After about ten minutes, the speedboat approached a large yacht. Wesley followed Martin Donner aboard. As they reached the front deck, he saw a young man baiting a fishing rod.
"Mr. Devonshire," Martin said respectfully. "Mr. Gibbs has arrived."
Devonshire? Wesley stared at Martin in shock. When the young man looked up at him, Wesley's shock turned to excitement, leaving him unable to speak.
"Mr. Devonshire, it's an honor to meet you," Wesley stammered.
William smiled and walked over, extending his hand. "Hello, Wesley."
Wesley quickly wiped his hand on his clothes before shaking William's hand, trembling with excitement. "I'm a big fan of yours, Mr. Devonshire."
Sensing Wesley's nervousness, William smiled and nodded at Martin. Martin promptly said, "I'll wait on the speedboat. If you need anything, just call."
"Thank you, Martin. I'll let you know if I need anything."
Turning back to Wesley, William released his hand and pointed to a tackle box on the deck. "Relax, Wesley. Let's fish for a while. Once you're calm, we can talk."
"Okay, sure," Wesley agreed, fumbling with the fishing gear.
After about ten minutes of struggling, Wesley finally managed to set up the rod. He hesitantly approached William, who simply smiled at him, putting Wesley at ease.
"Sorry, sir. I've never fished before. I'm not sure if I'll be any good," Wesley admitted.
"No problem," William chuckled. "Just cast the bait and wait. It's a lot like this meeting of ours."
Wesley paused mid-cast, puzzled. "I don't understand."
After thinking for a moment, Wesley's unease grew. He was a lazy drifter, but life at the bottom had made him cautious. Stammering, he asked, "Are you saying... I'm the bait?"
"In a way, yes," William replied, turning to look at Wesley with a smile. "And if you value your life, you'll have no choice but to be the bait."
"Why? I'm just a nobody. I have no parents, no money, no career—nothing. Why would you need me as bait?"
"Calm down," William said, patting Wesley's shoulder. "It's not me who wants you to be bait. It's some people who want your father dead but can't defeat him otherwise."
"My father? That's impossible. You must be mistaken, Mr. Devonshire. My parents both passed away years ago," Wesley argued.
"No mistake," William said calmly. "Mr. and Mrs. Gibbs were your adoptive parents. Your biological father is still alive." After a brief pause, he added apologetically, "Your biological mother, however, passed away long ago. I'm sorry."
Wesley was speechless. He knew who William was and understood that someone of his status wouldn't go to such lengths to deceive him. For a moment, Wesley was at a loss for words.
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