Life at the Top

He thought back to the piece of information he had learned from one of his men whom he had placed among his clansmen,
many foreigners have been in contact with the elders of the Kurt family.
“I see... I knew you wouldn’t have dared to overthrow me if you hadn’t already found someone powerful to support you,” Kimbra
muttered to himself.
If Kimbra could gain the Rothchilds’ support, then so could everyone else with other powerful groups.
For the first time, Kimbra understood what it meant to feel afraid.
Kimbra looked at the protesters furiously. He felt the sudden urge to call the guards in and shoot all of them dead.
Without a doubt, it would be a wonderful sight, their blood splattered across the tiles like New Year’s Eve fireworks. Yet, all he did
was stare.
He did not call in the guards, nor did he have anyone shot. For he knew that each and every one of those protesting were more
than just themselves, they were also representatives for the powerful people supporting them. To hurt any one of them would be
to declare war against those powerful forces.
The Rothschilds and the Freemasons might not fear those powerful forces, but Kimbra certainly did and he was but the
Rothschilds’ representative. Even if he managed to make enough profit for the Rothschilds, Kimbra knew that they would still
discard him in a heartbeat, if it meant pacifying those forces.
Suddenly, Kimbra felt a wave of despair come over him.
The United States was not the only one who had their eyes on Qari’s petroleum fields. There was no doubt that the United
States would end up owning a majority of What was harvested, and these other forces would do everything to get their hands on
What was left, including the Kurt family.
Kimbra sneered at everyone. “Things have hardly gotten to the point of no return, and you’re already so eager to overthrow me,
hmm? Have you all forgotten how I’d recruited you to overthrow my father?! I have the Rothschilds’ support! I represent the
Freemasons!”
Kimbra glared at everyone.
This was the first time he had so openly revealed who he was working for. He had brought up the Freemasons’ name as well.

By admitting that he was just acting on someone’s behalf, Kimbra knew it would affect how others treated him, so he had never
spoken it aloud before even though it was no secret. However, he had no other option now.
The Rothschilds’ name was the only thing that would pacify those protesting. Kimbra was more afraid of being overthrown than
he was about being perceived as a puppet.
The moment he lost his seat, he knew he would be facing a fate immeasurably worse than Baltimore’s and Robbins’.
Kimbra’s declaration must have been effective, for sounds of protests began to quieten.
“Fine. We’ll give you one more chance to prove yourself, Kimbra. You have ten days. Either get that contract with the president,
or the next time we meet, you will be in the dungeons where you’ve locked your father and brother.”
“Not even the Rothschilds can get you out of there. After all, you’re not the only one they’ve reached out to, Kimbra.”