However, the man’s begging fell on deaf ears. Brendan’s men stepped forward, gripping his arms tightly before dragging him away, his cries fading as they hauled him out of sight.
“Please, Mr. Adams! Forgive me!”
Brendan paid no attention. He reclined on the sofa, his indifference unbroken, as if nothing had happened.
A woman, standing silently at his side, immediately knelt to refill his glass with more wine. Brendan swirled the fresh pour of red wine lazily, its deep hue reflecting in his cold eyes.
Then, without warning—
A deafening bang shattered the stillness from outside.
A figure dashed forward, his hurried steps faltering before he collapsed onto the floor. He was dressed in casual clothes, and his bright yellow hair was particularly eye-catching.
It was Josh Stanley, one of Brendan’s trusted men.
Breathing heavily, panic evident in his voice, Josh exclaimed, “Mr. Adams, they’ve raided our business on the west side!”
That particular business had been one of their top earners in Yata, making its loss all the more devastating. No wonder Josh was nearly trembling with panic.
Brendan shot to his feet, his wine glass shattering as it hit the floor.
“What did you say?”
A hundred billion in annual profit—gone in an instant?
Cold fury flashed in his eyes as he shouted, “Who was behind this?”
The woman standing beside Brendan flinched at the outburst, but she held herself together, refusing to show any signs of weakness.
Josh’s phone buzzed, its shrill ring cutting through the tension. Without hesitation, he answered, his subordinate’s frantic voice echoing through the receiver.
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“It’s worse. They’ve sent people to our business in Sairo too.”
A wave of dread washed over Josh as he turned to Brendan, his face turning pale. “They’re at Sairo’s. It’s Vincent and his crew.”
A cold chill seemed to settle over Brendan, his teeth clenching in anger.
“Gather everyone. We’re going.”
So, Vincent had dared to make such a bold move. Did Vincent really think he would just stand by?
Ten minutes later, they arrived at Sairo—Yata’s most opulent establishment, where fortune could be won or lost, and where alluring female dealers provided more than just company.
For the right price, these women could be hired for an entire evening. Their beauty was unmatched, with faces that could stop traffic and figures that seemed sculpted to perfection.
The level of luxury here was unrivaled, everything catered to excellence.
It was no surprise that such a lavish venue required vast sums to operate, which was why its customers consisted of only the wealthiest and most influential individuals.
Beyond the west side business, this was Brendan’s most lucrative venture in Yata. The thought of losing it as well made his mind race—the financial blow would be unimaginable.
With his usual commanding presence, Brendan stormed into the establishment. The moment he crossed the threshold, a chilling scent of blood hit him. The floor was strewn with the lifeless bodies of his own men.
.
.
.