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Chapter_185
The scene in the bar was increasingly surreal, a bizarre mix of chaos and cold calm as Yvette effortlessly dominated the room, every move exuding an aura of ruthless power. Dorion, still reeling from the unexpected bullet wound, struggled to gather himself. His pride had been crushed in a way that few could understand, and now, the woman who had made a mockery of him was sitting back, her calm demeanor only adding to his fury.
As Dorion attempted to launch his attack, Yvette’s sharp, cold gaze met his, and her casual dismissal, “Fool,” left him momentarily paralyzed. Before he could even process what had happened, the sound of a gunshot rang out. The bullet pierced his left leg, sending him crashing to the floor in shock and pain, his face turning an angry shade of red.
The moment of disbelief stretched on as Dorion tried to comprehend the violation of the rules. A gun in a fight? That wasn’t just dishonorable—it was outright humiliating. “You… you have no honor,” he stammered, his voice a mix of rage and confusion. “How could you use a gun?”
Yvette’s smile remained playful, her tone light. “Oh? Did I say I wouldn’t use a gun? Why bother working hard when you can make things easy?” She shrugged, as if the idea of fighting by any other means was beneath her.
The audience watched in stunned silence, unable to process what they had just witnessed. Dorion, once proud and feared, was now reduced to a wounded, seething mess. His body shook with fury, and yet, no one moved to help him. The tables had turned, and Tiger Head’s men were starting to realize that their entire reputation might be shattered in this one encounter.
Burley, watching in horror as his men fell and his leader struggled on the ground, began to consider a retreat. But before he could make a move, Yvette’s eyes flicked to him. The sheer force of her gaze was enough to make him shrink back, panic seizing him as he realized he was trapped. There was nowhere to go.
The crowd, still trying to process the carnage unfolding before them, couldn’t help but whisper amongst themselves. What had started as a typical show of power by Tiger Head had turned into something else entirely. A single woman had turned their powerful gang into a disarray of broken bodies and shattered pride. Burley and Dorion’s leadership seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a sense of vulnerability they had never known.
As the tension continued to build, Sandor, one of the thugs trying to sneak away from the scene, suddenly found the room going eerily quiet. His eyes widened in fear as Yvette’s gaze settled on him, the same cold, calculating look that had rendered Dorion powerless now focused entirely on him. Terrified, he dropped to his knees, begging for mercy. “Beautiful lady, I was wrong. Please spare me. I won’t do it again. I’ll never do anything bad again. If I do, may my whole family suffer.”
Yvette’s eyes glinted as she pointed her silver gun directly at Sandor’s head, the cold metal causing him to break into a cold sweat. The crowd recoiled in disgust at the scene, some covering their noses at the stench of fear and urine that now permeated the air.
With a casual motion, Yvette tucked her gun back into her clothing, and Sandor—still shaking uncontrollably—wiped the sweat from his forehead, hoping against hope that he had a chance to escape this nightmare. She gestured toward an empty chair with a nonchalance that only made his fear grow.
Desperate to please, Sandor scrambled to retrieve the chair, cleaning it with his sleeve and bowing deeply before her. “Lady, please sit. I’ve made it clean for you,” he said, his voice cracking with nervousness. The onlookers could hardly believe their eyes. They were watching the fall of Tiger Head, the mighty gang that had ruled the underworld for years, now brought low by an unknown woman with no apparent mercy.
Yvette leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs, and resting her chin on her hand as if she were lounging on a lazy afternoon, completely unfazed by the carnage that surrounded her. “Go get your leader,” she ordered, her voice smooth and teasing. “The Tiger Head should share both the good and bad times, don’t you agree?”
Sandor, trembling in fear, turned to look at Burley, who was huddled in a corner like a beaten dog. He felt the weight of the situation crashing down on him as he glanced nervously at Yvette before speaking. “Can L…”
Yvette’s pale fingers drummed lazily on the armrest of her chair as she regarded Sandor, her eyes gleaming with playful menace. “Hmm?” she said, as if encouraging him to finish his sentence.
Sandor, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of desperation, made a bold and reckless decision. He turned back toward Burley and, with trembling hands, began to tie him up, apologizing profusely. “I’m so sorry, boss! I had no choice. That woman is dangerous. Please forgive me this once.”
Burley, still trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, struggled weakly against the ropes, but he was too battered and exhausted to fight back. Sandor worked quickly, even stuffing a cloth into his mouth to silence any protests. When he returned to Yvette, his face was pale with fear, and his voice was shaky. “Lady, do you have any more orders?”
Yvette glanced at Sandor, her eyebrow arching in playful approval. “You did well. Keep it up next time.”
Sandor’s heart sank at her words, realizing that he had just sealed his fate. He forced a grin that barely resembled a smile as he backed away from her, his thoughts racing with the realization that escape was no longer an option.
Yvette lounged in her chair, her expression cold but calculating, her eyes flicking toward Dorion, who was still on the floor, gasping in pain. “Has your help not arrived yet?” she asked, her voice laced with quiet amusement.
Dorion, his body trembling, momentarily forgot his injury as confusion overtook him. “How did you know I called for help? Why didn’t you stop me?” he demanded, his voice thick with disbelief.
While Sandor had been cleaning the chair, Dorion had secretly sent a text, hoping for backup. But Yvette had seen through his plan the moment he made it. She had allowed him to call for help, knowing that the situation would only escalate.
Dorion’s mind raced. “Why? Does she really fear nothing from Seventy-Two Chambers or the Goodman family?” he wondered. Doubts began to creep into his mind. Had he angered someone truly untouchable?
Yvette glanced at him, her expression unreadable but her eyes faintly misty, as though there was something more at play than mere brute force. “I needed to get rid of the roots,” she said cryptically.
Dorion’s eyes widened in disbelief. “This is her plan?” he thought, his pain momentarily forgotten. “Can she really take us down like this?”
Yvette ignored Dorion’s confused expression, pulling out her phone and tapping the screen. The sound of a game filled the air, an odd contrast to the grim scene unfolding around her. The room was silent, save for the soft click-clack of her fingers on the screen, and the heavy breaths of the men who had once thought themselves invincible.
After fifteen minutes, the door to the bar suddenly opened. A group of armed men dressed in black entered, their presence commanding attention. They moved aside, parting to reveal a tall man in a trench coat, his demeanor cold and authoritative.
Burley’s face drained of color. He couldn’t believe his eyes as the tall man stepped into the light. The crowd watched in stunned silence as they realized that Dorion’s backup had arrived—but it wasn’t just any backup. This man, and the one who followed him, were the very ones Burley had only heard about in whispers—the men who had once ruled the underworld with an iron fist. The legendary figures of Seventy-Two Chambers and the Goodman family.
Burley trembled, his mind reeling as the memory of these two men came rushing back. He had seen Charles a few times at large meetings, but this was the first time he’d encountered him in such a personal way. As for Braydon, Burley had only glimpsed him from a distance once, too scared to even look up. The legend of their power was undeniable, and now, they were here. But what did it mean for Yvette? What was her connection to them?
