After venting her pent-up feelings, Lima returned home with an unexpected sense of relief. She had finally made up her mind—she no longer wanted to endure a marriage that only drained her, making her life feel heavy and hopeless. She was tired of living in despair, gripped by daily fear and uncertainty.
"Lima, we already have McDonald's. Why?" Fowles asked, his voice filled with agony as he tried to grasp her decision.
"Because I can't keep paying the interest to those vultures, because every penny I earn vanishes by the end of the month, because…" she hesitated, her voice trembling. "Because I see no hope in you, Fowles."
"I can fix this, Lima. We can start over. I can—" he reached for her hand, desperation etched on his face.
"No, Fowles. It's too late," she interrupted, her tone firm but filled with finality. "I'll pay off the debts and leave. The house, the business—everything here is yours."
Fowles stood frozen, his face pale. "But I won't divorce you, at least not now," she added, aware that she still needed the marriage certificate for practical reasons.
"You can't do this to me!" Fowles roared, his voice cracking with anger and despair.
"I knew you'd react like this," Lima replied softly, her eyes devoid of the affection she once had. She watched as his face contorted in frustration, a man consumed by his own failures.
He began shouting, cursing her, and hurling insults. But this time, his words no longer cut through her. She had heard it all before, and the wounds they inflicted had long since scarred over. "I'll leave you the rights to McDonald's. That's my final act of kindness," she declared before heading to her room to pack.
When she emerged, a single leather bag slung over her shoulder, she stood in front of him one last time. "Get out of the way, Fowles. If you don't want more trouble, just let me go."
Fowles, overwhelmed by his own helplessness, stepped aside.
"F*** you, you damned b***h!" he screamed as she walked out the door. "You'll regret this! You're nothing but garbage! Go to hell!"
Ignoring his outburst, Lima hailed a taxi and headed to the city center. In her pocket was a check for $100,000—enough to clear her debts and secure her own apartment.
She felt a newfound freedom as the taxi sped away. Her thoughts shifted to the future and the opportunities that lay ahead. "Maybe I should call Kim tonight," she mused, planning her next steps.
While Lima plotted her future, Charlie Lee was busy resolving chaos in Area 22.
"Why did you get into a fight?" Charlie asked Eric, who sat in a chair, his face swollen and bruised.
"They called me a n****r," Eric replied defiantly, his chin held high despite the pain.
Charlie leaned back, expressionless. "And what happened to the other guy?"
"I kicked him in the balls," Eric said proudly, a hint of satisfaction lighting up his battered face.
Charlie couldn't help but chuckle. "Good job. That's a bit of my style," he said, rubbing Eric's head. Eric grinned, though he was still worried about the consequences of his actions.
The teacher sitting opposite Charlie, who had come to report Eric's misconduct, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The teacher had arrived with the intention of reprimanding Eric, but upon realizing who Charlie Lee was, his demeanor had drastically changed.
"Well, the other party insulted Eric first, didn't they?" Charlie asked, his tone calm but firm.
"It… it seems so," the teacher stammered, his earlier confidence evaporating.
"Seems?" Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, yes, that's what happened," the teacher corrected himself hurriedly, now visibly nervous.
"Good. I'll handle it. If the other party has any problems, they can come directly to me," Charlie said, leaning back in his chair.
The teacher, eager to leave, quickly excused himself, practically running out the door.
Norma, sitting beside Charlie, giggled. "You scared him, Mr. Lee."
"No, he scared himself," Charlie replied with a smirk.
"Well, you should go check on Eric. I'm sure he'd love to share his 'victory' with you," Norma said, still amused.
Charlie smiled and rubbed her head affectionately. "Alright, I'll see him later. For now, I have some business to take care of."
Later, Charlie was reviewing documents related to PECA and a shipyard acquisition. Among the papers was a file about A.O. Smith's share transfer.
"So fast?" Charlie remarked as he signed the documents.
"Yes, the shareholders were divided, but after Ben offered a reasonable price, you now own 62% of the equity," his assistant, nicknamed "Little Elk," explained.
"And the remaining shareholders?" Charlie asked.
"They're hesitant to sell. They want to shift focus to manufacturing pressure boilers," Little Elk said, recalling the details.
Charlie sighed. "Fine. Prepare the car—I'm heading to Milwaukee to deal with this personally."
When Charlie arrived in Milwaukee, he was struck by a wave of nostalgia. The town's familiar sights—the taverns, dirty alleys, and creaky staircases—reminded him of his humble beginnings and the struggles he had endured.
Standing in front of a rundown factory, Charlie turned to Wang Dagou, his loyal companion. "Brother Dog, do you want to try throwing that gate open again?" he joked, referencing a daring escape they had made years ago.
"Shut up," Wang replied with a grin, punching Charlie lightly on the chest.
Inside the factory, workers whispered as they recognized the pair. Half a year ago, Charlie and Wang had escaped from this very factory after a violent altercation. The incident had been buried, but the workers hadn't forgotten.
"Jerry, those two yellow monkeys are here," a white man whispered to his supervisor, Jerry.
"I see them," Jerry replied, his face pale. He wanted to slip away but realized there was no escape.
As Charlie and his entourage entered, Jerry straightened up, trying to mask his fear. Charlie approached him with a calm but authoritative demeanor.
"Jerry, it's been a while," Charlie said with a faint smile.
Jerry swallowed hard, unsure of Charlie's intentions.
Charlie's rise to power hadn't come easily. His journey had been marked by betrayal, violence, and the constant struggle to survive. But through it all, he had emerged stronger, more determined to carve out his place in a world that had tried to crush him.
Standing in the factory that once symbolized his vulnerability, Charlie felt a sense of closure. He had come full circle, from a man on the run to a leader commanding respect and authority.
As the workers looked on in awe, Charlie turned to Jerry with a look that left no room for negotiation. "Let's talk business."