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Novel Catalog
Chapter_182
The tension in the bar thickened as Yvette’s words sank into the crowd. Dee’s disbelief was palpable as he stared at her, his eyes wide with fear. How does she know about Eban’s death? he thought. Only the inner circle of the Tiger Head Gang knew the details, and the gang was furious over their loss. They had planned to deliver Yvette to Burley to help lift his spirits after Eban’s demise, not knowing that their intended victim was already several steps ahead.
“What do you mean, you killed him?” Dee stammered, his voice trembling.
Yvette didn’t lower her voice. In fact, her words rang louder than she intended, and the entire bar seemed to freeze. The crowd, already wary of the Tiger Head Gang, couldn’t believe what they had just heard. Whispers spread quickly, echoing off the walls.
“Did you hear? Eban is dead. That could mean the end for the Tiger Head Gang!” one man murmured.
“Really? It’s not like the gang’s going to fall apart just because of one death. Burley’s still in charge,” another patron dismissed.
“No, no. You don’t get it. Eban was the heart of the Tiger Head Gang. It’s his ruthlessness that kept the gang on top,” an older man disagreed, shaking his head.
A bartender muttered under his breath, “But how does she know about Eban’s death? Even the people in the underworld didn’t know…”
That comment was enough to draw everyone’s attention back to Yvette. The room fell into an eerie silence, and all eyes turned to her, their curiosity piqued.
Yvette, unfazed, narrowed her eyes slightly, a playful yet dangerous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Because I killed him.”
The reaction was immediate and explosive. The crowd’s chatter turned into a stunned, collective gasp. The boldness of her claim was shocking, and the atmosphere was heavy with disbelief. Is she insane? they wondered. How could she possibly be serious?
A bald man with ties to Eban’s business scoffed and laughed mockingly. “Oh, you like to talk big, don’t you? You really think you killed Eban? Sure, you’re pretty, but do you have a screw loose in your head?”
Yvette’s expression remained calm as she glanced at him, unbothered. “I do know him,” she said casually, referring to the president of Mysonna, as though she had just made an innocent observation.
The crowd, already unsure about her mental state, now believed she had completely lost it. The remarks about her “craziness” began to circulate, and the taunting resumed.
“Pretty girl, if you’re mentally ill, go home for treatment. You’re embarrassing yourself here.”
“Yeah, sure, you know the President of Mysonna? And I’m his cousin!”
“I’m his second wife!”
But there were still a few people in the crowd who weren’t so quick to dismiss Yvette. A few sympathetic souls tried to warn her.
“Beauty, leave now. If the Tiger Head Gang shows up, there’s no way you’ll get out of here alive.”
Through it all, Yvette kept her gaze fixed on her old black cell phone. She wasn’t paying attention to the noise around her. Her phone rang, and without missing a beat, she answered.
“Boss, I’ve found out that Charles, the leader of Blaze Hall, is locked up by Braydon. We still need more time to confirm the location,” came the voice of the Eagle King on the other end.
Yvette hung up the phone, her face unreadable, but her aura suddenly shifted—sharp, dangerous, and cold. It was as though the air itself was charged with a new energy.
The room fell silent once again, sensing the change. Her smile twisted into something more sinister, a devilish smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
Dee and Sandor exchanged glances. It was time to take matters into their own hands.
They rushed toward Yvette, their intentions clear—they would grab her and take her away by force. Dee was the first to make a move, reaching for her with malicious intent in his eyes.
Before he could even make contact, Yvette’s foot connected with his chest, the sickening sound of crunching bones reverberating through the bar. Dee flew backward, crashing into a table with a painful scream.
The onlookers gasped in shock, but the real surprise came when Sandor pulled out a knife, intent on taking Yvette down.
He lunged at her, but Yvette’s eyes gleamed with cold amusement. As the blade came toward her, she sidestepped gracefully, grabbed Sandor’s wrist in a vice-like grip, and twisted. The sickening snap of bone echoed in the bar, and Sandor was sent flying across the room with a swift kick.
The crowd was stunned into silence, their disbelief giving way to awe. This was no ordinary woman.
But Dee wasn’t done. As Yvette turned her attention to Sandor, Dee, nursing his broken chest, tried to sneak up from behind with a thick wooden stick.
Yvette turned, her eyes now glowing with a dangerous menace. Without even glancing at him, she snatched the stick from his hand in one swift motion. Dee stumbled back, his face pale with terror as he begged for mercy, his voice shaking.
Yvette lowered her gaze to him, her tone cold and deliberate. “Do you want me to let you go?”
Sandor, still writhing on the floor, had now regained some composure. He scrambled to his knees, bowing repeatedly, his voice a desperate cry. “Please, spare us!”
The crowd murmured, wondering if Yvette might show mercy. She was a woman, after all. Perhaps she had a soft spot?
But Yvette was no ordinary woman, and mercy wasn’t in her vocabulary. She stared down at Sandor, her expression icy.
“If you want to be spared, call your boss,” she said in a voice that sent chills down his spine.
Sandor froze, unable to process the audacity of her words. Is she insane? he thought. Does she really think she can walk away from this once Burley shows up? The Tiger Head Gang was vast, and Burley had an army at his disposal. No one could stand against the full force of the gang.
The onlookers, unsure whether Yvette was playing a dangerous game or genuinely out of her mind, looked on in disbelief.
“Are you sure you want me to call our boss?” Sandor asked, his voice wavering.
Yvette’s laughter was light and mocking. “Go ahead. Do you need me to find you a phone?”
She said it so casually, as though it wasn’t her who had nearly decimated them in a matter of seconds.
Sandor, unsure if she was toying with him, quickly fumbled for his phone. His hands shook as he dialed the number, fear evident in his every movement.
“Hold on,” Yvette interrupted, her tone playful yet deadly.
Sandor hesitated, realizing with dread that she was enjoying this, and he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified.
With a slight smile, Yvette said, “Go get me that chair over there.”
The crowd fell into a stunned silence. Sandor, wincing in pain with every step, was forced to drag his injured body to fetch a chair for Yvette.
The onlookers began to understand—it wasn’t just that Yvette was strong. She was using this moment to break him.
By the time he returned, every eye in the bar was on him. The tension was unbearable, and even Sandor, in his pain, knew that if Eagle King were present, he would simply smile and say, “You’re overthinking it. She’s just lazy.”
