Chapter 576

The man screamed as his arm was twisted painfully behind him, drawing everyone's attention. “What the hell? You can’t treat me like this! I’m one of your highest-level members!” he yelled, struggling against the guard’s grip. “I’ll report this! I’m going to report all of you!”

Debra furrowed her brows, surprised this establishment operated under a membership system. Before she could process this, Peter rushed over, attempting to de-escalate the situation. “My sincerest apologies, sir, but this lady is one of our VIP guests.”

“VIP my ass!” the man spat. “If she’s such a big deal, why didn’t you say so earlier? I’ve set my sights on her, and no one’s going to stop me.”

The moment the man refused to back down, Peter’s smile vanished. His voice dropped, cold and unforgiving. “The Lowe Group has its rules, sir. And if you don’t follow them, you’ll be disrupting Mr. Lowe’s event.”

The drunken man, emboldened by alcohol, scoffed. “Screw your rules. I’ve spent a fortune at your place, and now I can’t even touch a girl? I want Drake to come talk to me.”

Gasps echoed around the room. The man’s audacity stunned the guests. Suddenly, a deep, menacing voice cut through the tension. “You called for me?”

The man’s body tensed. He slowly turned, his eyes wide with fear as he saw Drake descending from the second floor.

Debra followed everyone’s gaze and spotted the infamous man making his entrance. He sat down in a grand armchair, exuding power and control. Drake wore an immaculate black tailcoat, its elegance contrasting sharply with the danger he radiated. He played absentmindedly with a vintage lighter; every movement deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. Half his face was hidden by a mask, but what was visible—sharp features, pale skin, and a chilling intensity in his gray eyes—was enough to freeze anyone in their tracks.

Unlike Marion, Drake was something far darker. A deathly stillness surrounded him, an inhuman ruthlessness that permeated the room.

“M-Mr. Lowe,” the man stammered, his bravado crumbling as he realized the gravity of his situation. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just drunk and talking nonsense. Please, forget what I said.”

The man trembled, clearly aware of the fate awaiting those who crossed Drake. No one dared break Drake’s rules, and no one dared challenge him.

Debra’s mind raced as she remembered Andrew’s warning: “Drake is like a bomb. Get on his bad side, and he’ll bite you like a snake—slowly and painfully.” She held her breath, wishing she could disappear.

Fortunately, Drake didn’t notice Debra. His attention was solely on the man who had been boasting.

Peter stepped up beside Drake and said, “Sir, that’s Kai Dawson, the minor boss of a logistics company.”

Drake rested his cheek on his hand, leaning back into the sofa. “Let me recall your name.”