Braydon walked through the crowd with a strong presence, though few there knew him. On the ground, Dorion and Burley were shocked. Dorion had never expected Braydon to appear. When Braydon looked at him, Dorion felt a chill and tensed, knowing he was insignificant.
The room fell silent as everyone watched Braydon nervously, wondering his identity. He walked to Yvette, his eyes filled with disgust for the men on the ground, deeming them unworthy of her time.
Dorion, dragging his injured leg, tried to crawl toward Braydon. "Mr. Goodman, I'm Dorion from Tiger Head. This woman has harmed our people. Please help!" Burley could only make muffled sounds.
The crowd quickly realized Braydon Goodman, head of Mysonna's most powerful crime family, stood before them. They were astonished he would help a small gang like Tiger Head. Braydon's ruthlessness was legendary; even the president feared him. Why would he care about this? But Dorion's address, coupled with the group of trained assassins—rumored to be Braydon's elite team—confirmed his identity.
Sandor, seeing an ally, rushed forward but was shot in the shoulder by one of Braydon's men. Falling, he cried, "Mr. Goodman, this woman is mad! She killed Eban! These men, all from Tiger Head, demand revenge!"
Braydon signaled an assassin, who presented his weapon. Braydon's mocking smile sent a chill through the crowd. They feared a massacre, believing Yvette, still engrossed in her phone, stood no chance against Braydon's elite killers. Even if she defeated one, how could she overcome sixty? Yet, she remained calm, playing her game.
Braydon spun a sleek black gun, aiming it at Sandor. A gunshot rang out; Sandor fell, a red mark blooming on his forehead. The crowd gasped. No one expected Braydon to shoot Sandor, not Yvette.
Braydon quietly said, "What makes you call her evil?" Few heard him. He looked at Yvette, still focused on her game, her face calm and cold. When she finally looked up, his coldness vanished, replaced by a weak smile, his eyes filled with intense, strange emotion. "Long time no see," he said, unspoken words lingering: "my dear Ms. Zeller."
Yvette hesitated, her lashes shading her eyes as she glanced at Braydon. His expression was indifferent; his cold gaze betrayed no emotion. Yet, when he met her gaze, the chill evaporated. His lip trembled, his face pale and pitiful, his eyes fixed on her with a vulnerable weakness. The coldness in Yvette's eyes pierced him; it was just like years ago—she had never looked at him as he'd hoped.
Burley and Dorion's hearts sank. Dorion's face paled; he realized Braydon knew and seemed intimately familiar with this woman. Were they in grave danger? Was she Braydon's woman? Something about Braydon's behavior seemed strange.
The crowd finally understood Yvette's boldness. With Braydon's backing, she could walk confidently through Mysonna. But if she knew Braydon, why provoke Tiger Head?
Yvette glanced at Braydon before returning to her game. His gaze remained on her, filled with an endless longing. Hundreds held their breath, watching as Sandor lay dead.
Yvette finished her game, texted someone in Betrico, and slowly put away her phone. Looking up, her eyes sharp and slightly red, she smiled coldly at Braydon. Her icy voice cut through the silence. "Braydon, what is the first rule of the Seventy-Two Chambers?"
Braydon stiffened, his fingers clenching. He had let Tiger Head deal in drugs to lure Yvette out. He had searched for her for five years, employing even the world's best hacker groups, to no avail. This plan, to break the first rule of her Seventy-Two Chambers, had finally worked. Yvette had appeared.
Eban and Dorion never guessed the new drug formula was a trap set by Braydon. He cared nothing for the lives it might claim; he only cared that his plan had worked.
Braydon stayed silent, gripping his weapon, his eyes pleading. "I didn't know about the drug trafficking. It was my mistake. I'll eliminate everyone from Tiger Head. Please, don't be angry."
The crowd lowered their heads, shocked by Braydon's submissive tone toward Yvette. They had long considered him uncaring and unpredictable. Remembering his ruthlessness, fear gripped them; they doubted they'd leave Raindrop Bar alive.