Yvette looked at Braydon with a cold stare, her lips curling into a slight smile. “Do you think I should kill you?” she asked. Braydon’s eyes darkened momentarily, then returned to normal. He whispered, “You promised my grandfather you wouldn’t kill me.”
Yvette rose from her chair, shoved her hands in her pockets, and walked toward Braydon. He remained captivated by her delicate features. As she passed, she briefly met his gaze and said in a low voice, “This is the last time. Be smart.”
Braydon clenched his fists as Yvette headed for the bar’s exit. Ignoring the surrounding crowd, he called out, “Don’t you want to know where Charles is? If he were here, would he let his gang deal drugs so openly?” A wave of sadness washed over him; he was using Charles to keep Yvette from leaving.
Yvette turned, her face partially obscured by her cap, her eyes deep with meaning. She glanced at Braydon before confidently exiting. Braydon felt confused. Doesn’t she care about Charles? He immediately called a private number.
A young man answered, “Master.”
Braydon said, “Check the secret chamber; see if Charles is still there.”
The young man, unfazed by the seemingly impossible task, knew the Goodman family's secret chamber boasted top-notch security. Yet, fearing Braydon's wrath, he rushed to the chamber. He was about to unlock the door when a sharp blow to the head and a prick to his neck rendered him unconscious. As his vision faded, he saw someone in servant's clothes enter the chamber. Helpless, he watched Charles being taken. Just before blacking out, a single thought overwhelmed him: It’s over. Losing Charles means my life is in danger.
Braydon, still on the phone, looked grim, shadows darkening his eyes. Yvette had been gone some time; the crowd was silent, afraid to anger him. They all sensed his fury. They realized the woman wasn't his girlfriend; he had been chasing her, begging her to stay, yet she had simply walked away. More troubling was her question about killing him. They had assumed he was protecting her; clearly, that wasn't true. They felt they had witnessed something extraordinary: a woman defying the "Tiger Head," the formidable Braydon. They had even uncovered his secret: his disinterest in women stemmed from this woman.
The call ended. Braydon smashed his custom phone on the ground, shattering the expensive device. He glared at the wreckage, his eyes icy with madness, terrifying those around him. Yvette set this up, sending someone to rescue Charles, knowing I’d come. Capturing Charles is just leverage, hoping she’ll return and help train the Seventy-Two Chambers. Now that Charles is saved, my plans are pointless.
After a moment, a strange grin spread across Braydon’s face. Does Yvette really think this will slow me down? He turned and walked toward the exit, followed by his men in black.
Just as the patrons thought they had escaped unscathed, Braydon stopped at the door, whispering instructions to his men before leaving with a grim expression.
The man who had delivered Braydon's weapon turned to the frightened patrons, focusing on Dorion and Burley with a cruel smile. “Gentlemen, Mr. Goodman requests today’s events remain secret. However, he's not entirely at ease, fearing some might talk. For now, remain still. Any movement will have serious consequences.”
He exchanged glances with his comrades, who drew their weapons, aiming them at the Tiger Head members, including the injured Dorion and the bound Burley. With a wave, gunfire erupted. The Tiger Head members stood no chance; some were shot while unconscious, never to awaken.
In seconds, numerous lives were lost, blood pooling on the bar floor. Some tried to flee, but froze under the men's cold stares, remembering the warning.
Once the black-clad men confirmed all Tiger Head members were dead, they ignored the terrified crowd and departed. The remaining patrons stared at the growing pile of bodies; some succumbed to nausea. A scream broke the silence, triggering chaos as people scrambled for the exit, the bar descending into panicked pandemonium.
The next morning, at breakfast, Yvette sat comfortably, yawning lazily. She held a glass of water as Frankie’s voice echoed from the doorway, “No way, are you serious?” Everyone turned to look at him, while Yvette leisurely sipped her water and continued enjoying her pierogies, courtesy of Jeremiah.
Frankie entered, shocked, and conspiratorially asked, “Can you guess what news I just heard?”
Emmett, Bruce, and Chris remained disinterested. Frankie's previous fabricated celebrity scandal had cost them a million dollars. This time, they weren't falling for his tricks.