Pampered by my three brothers: the return of the neglected heiress novel Chapter 1556

Chapter 1556: The man saw what he shouldn’t.

Intimidation didn’t need a lot of words — something Hugo had learned over the years of serving his country. All he needed was to show intent, and people like this guy would sing like canaries.

After all, the toughest enemies Hugo had ever faced weren’t the street thugs whose confidence came from their crew or weapons. No, the real threats were those who fought for a cause, who believed in something deeply enough to die for it — their country, their people, their ideals.

Seated on the chair once more, Hugo listened to everything the man was saying. Stephen, standing off to the side, furrowed his brows as he listened.

"I swear," the man huffed, tempted to raise a hand to emphasize his sincerity—but alas, they were tied behind his back. "That’s all I know. They told me if I planted that bomb... they’d take care of my little brothers and sisters."

Stephen pressed his lips into a thin line before his eyes flared with anger. "You expect me to believe that? That you’d willingly throw your life away for a few bucks?!"

"For you, it’s a few bucks — you’re a rich guy!" the man snapped. "But for us, that’s already a fortune!"

Stephen’s fist trembled. A threat to his life was one thing — but to hear the price they’d put on his head? Not even a hundred thousand?! Was that all he was worth?

"Hugo, he’s lying!" he shouted, pointing accusingly at the man. "This guy’s lying! Don’t fall for his sob story!"

"I’m telling the truth!" the man hissed, turning desperately to Hugo. "I swear! Check it yourself — I’m not lying!"

Hugo just looked at him lazily, as if the whole thing was a boring lecture. Then, casting Stephen a slow glance, the same thought flickered across his mind:

This is why I prefer working alone.

"Don’t listen to him, Hugo," Stephen insisted, shaking his head. "We can’t trust a single word out of this guy’s mouth!"

"Uncle," Hugo said with a slow blink, "have you ever... slept on the street?"

Stephen blinked, caught off guard. "What does that have to do with this?"

"Because I have. He has. And I’ve seen countless people with no choice but to sleep in a concrete pipe just to stay safe," Hugo continued in the same calm tone. "You’re angry that this guy agreed to risk your life and his for what you think is pocket change. But for him? That’s his siblings’ education, their daily meals, maybe even a shot at a brighter future."

"..." Stephen pressed his lips tightly, still visibly unhappy.

The hostage, meanwhile, exhaled. It wasn’t out of relief — just a heavy breath weighed down by the reality of his choices.

He explained that he belonged to a small gang. In his neighborhood, gang affiliation was a way of life. If he weren’t in one, he was a target. He joined at sixteen. Later, their gang was absorbed into a larger organization that brought more money, but also strange jobs.

Like this one: a suicide mission. Take down Stephen Bennet.

Because of a past dispute with the boss, the job fell to him. The money was supposed to go to his siblings once he succeeded. And with that in mind—and knowing what would happen if he refused — he hoped, at the very least, the money would buy his family a way out of that hellhole.

"Even if that’s true..." Stephen’s voice shook as he stared at the man. "What makes you think the same people who sent you to die would keep their promise?"

Mint?