After divorce I am a billionaire

Shane's jaw stiffened slightly and his face turned wan.

With over five hundred push-ups as a start, he was now a little sore and weak.

With more than four hours to go before the end of the day, what the hell was Malcolm going to do? Malcolm observed his nervous expression, snorted, and ordered in a deep voice, "Spread your feet apart, shoulder-width apart.

One hour in a horse stance. Execute it immediately." Just a horse stance? REST Shane was relieved and did as he was told, squatting in a standard horse stance.

With the hot wind blowing next to him and sweat pouring down his cheeks, Shane didn't say a word, breathed steadily and counted the minutes silently.

Malcolm stared at him for a moment, said nothing, walked around him, and headed over to the back shelves of books.

Shane didn't dare turn around, couldn't see what Malcolm was doing, but could clearly hear Malcolm's military boots stomping on the wooden floor.

From near to far, and from far to near.

When he returned again, Malcolm had a tall stack of books in his hands and placed them on his desk.

Shane was keenly aware that something was wrong.

Sure enough, the next second, he saw Malcolm sorting out two stacks of books and laying each flat on his lap.

In order to keep the book from falling, Shane could only move down two inches in a hard way to maintain the balance of the books.

Seeing that he had handled it well, Malcolm sorted out two more stacks of heavy books and walked over to him.

"Open your fists, palms facing up." Shane did as he was told.

Two heavy stacks of books were placed on each of his hands.

He clenched his teeth and still suffered without a word.

Malcolm leisurely sipped iced tea, turned around the desk, backed to his seat, and coldly said, "If you can not even last an hour, you just quit the Deputy Director of National Investigation Bureau. If one book falls down, you will be suspended for a month.

Think about it yourself." Shane held his breath and silently endured the grinding corporal punishment.

He was planning to make Malcolm's life miserable when he had the power in the National Investigation Bureau.

Malcolm looked at the computer, but glanced at him, catching his gloomy gaze.

"Do you hate me so much?" Shane was slightly stunned, and restrained the sharpness in his eyes, "No, you're my superior. No matter what you do, I will not resist and cooperate fully." Malcolm sneered, and did not expose him down, but only said, "As a subordinate, you must have the consciousness of obeying orders. Thinking too much is not a good thing. If you are willing to follow the rules of the work, it will be peaceful in the future.” The implication was that he should give up on Melissa and compromise with Lyra and Keith.

Shane just pretended not to understand and said, "You're right. | naturally follow the rules and will never dare to violate them." Malcolm said nothing more, opened the drawer, took out a countdown timer, passed it forward, and placed it where Shane could see it clearly.

Shane glanced down at the time he had set, a sixty-minute countdown.

So the twenty minutes or so before didn't count.

He was excellent at torturing him! Shane sneered in his heart. His arms were trembling gently. He just did more than 500 push-ups. He raised his arms for a while and it seemed to lose strength.

He adjusted his breathing, gritted his teeth and held on.

If he was suspended for dropping the books in his hands, once the news got spread, it would have a significant impact on his reputation and the stock of the Callahan Group.

He would never allow this to happen.

It was only an hour that passed like a year.

Shane could only stare at the countdown and suffer in silence.

His arms were so sore that they were about to break. His legs had begun to tremble uncontrollably. Shane was sweating like he had just taken a shower, and the water stains on the wooden floor in front of him were still expanding.

The office was unusually quiet as Malcolm concentrated on the business at hand, and Shane could hear the snap of sweat as it dripped to the floor.

On the timer, there were still the last five minutes.

He controlled his head, which was hot to the point of dizziness, and looked forward to the moment when the timer went to zero.

However, the timer got stuck on the number 2:59 when counting the last three minutes.

Shane thought for a moment that he had dim eyesight. Then he closed his eyes and reopened them, and fixed his gaze at 2:59.

What was going on? He looked behind at Malcolm, who was concentrating on his work and didn't even look his way.

"Mr. Malcolm." Malcolm ignored him and continued to process while being calm.

Shane held on for a few more minutes. The timer always stopped at the three minute mark.

He had an internal meltdown, but still reluctantly called out to Malcolm, "Mr. Malcolm, this timer, it seems to be broken." "It's broken?" Malcolm raised his eyebrows gently, did not even look at the timer, "Since the timer is broken, I think the time is not accurate, so | will take another to replace. Re-clock?" Shane was speechless.

It'd been years since he had not seen Malcolm's methods of torturing, and he never thought that they would still be so severe.

His arms and legs trembled, and he did not say a word.

Malcolm seemed to see his heart's defiance, taunting, "That's too much? Fine, you can resign from the deputy director of National Investigation Bureau and you can immediately get up and go back to your sweet home. " He wanted him to step down voluntarily? Shane understood, "You're right. | will reflect on myself to do more exercise. Never slack.” "That's good." Malcolm opened the drawer again, took out a timer, set the time, and put it where Shane could see it.

The torment continued.

Melissa did not wake up until this afternoon after being sedated with two doses last night.

Lyra and Keith took Malcolm's access certificate and took the unconscious Melissa to the lab.

Shortly after they left, Rebecca arrived at Lyre Spit.

The two bodyguards behind her followed her closely, making her a little uncomfortable.

"Okay, this is Lyre Spiti. I'm not in any danger. You guys wait for me in the garage. I'll go in and check it out and come out.” The two bodyguards did not move at all.

"Miss Rebecca, it is Mr. Shane's order to keep you safe. If you leave our sight, we can't account for it to Mr. Shane." Rebecca glared back in displeasure, but was too afraid of Shane's intimidation to say anything.

She walked through the winding alleys of Lyre Spiti and finally reached Lyre Spiti, but Eleven, who stayed at the door, told her, "Ms. Lyra and Mr. Malcolm are out.” "Where did they go?" Eleven shook her head, "I don't know. They didn't say." "And did they say how long it would take to get back?" Eleven still shook his head, "Not either." OK.

Rebecca was happy to be free and turned back to the two bodyguards, "You heard me. It's not that I'm not active. It's that Lyra is not here and | can't do anything about it." She turned around and tried to leave, but was again stopped by two bodyguards who discreetly said, "Miss Rebecca, you came over for the purpose of visiting Miss Melissa. And you should ask Miss Melissa where she went again.” mmMwWLIII0fifl0&1 mmMwWLIII0fifl0&1 mmMwWLII0fiflO& 1 mmMwWLIII0fifl0&1 mmMwWL1i10fif10&1 mmMwWLIiI0fiflO&1