Rafael said, “Didn’t you want to kill your old man and take his place? Sure, the risk is a bit high, but Grand Viper already hates the Wrights to his core. It’s not entirely impossible to make this work. As long as you handle things cleanly, I wouldn’t mind helping you get Grand Viper to step in.”

Quinton gritted his teeth and asked, “But what if Andrew says no?”

Mosby shrugged and said, “Then you’re worthless to us, and Grand Viper’s already dying to skin you alive.”

Quinton did not say a word. He took the blank piece of the map and walked out of the villa. He muttered, “You two filthy dogs… One day, I’ll make sure you suffer worse than death.”

As he glanced back at the villa, his eyes were filled with venomous hatred. He had not expected that giving up the map would not earn him gold or power, but instead, a death sentence. He should have seen it coming. Mosby and Rafael were both snakes–treachery was second nature to them.

“But what now? How the hell do I even talk to Andrew? With the way he operates, he’d probably treat me like dog crap.”

Quinton stood by the roadside, a dark expression clouding his face as he struggled to make a decision. After a long pause, he pulled out his phone and made a call. “Yara, hey, my sweet little sister… Got time for a coffee with me?” He was all smiles, trying his best to sound humble and polite.

Yara answered coldly, “Quinton, cut the crap. Coffee? You seriously think I’d believe anything you say now?”

Quinton cursed silently, calling her an ungrateful little bitch. “Yara, I need a favor. You’re pretty close with Andrew, aren’t you? I need to ask him for something.” Quinton kept his tone low and submissive, still trying to sweet-talk her.

Yara was shocked and burst into laughter. “Wait, what? You’re asking me to help you ask Andrew for a favor? Quinton, never thought I’d see the day. Alright, go on then. What do you want our dear Andrew to help you with? I’m curious now–what kind of karma finally caught up to you?”

Quinton snapped, “Nothing’s wrong with me! I’m doing just fine! Absolutely fine! I just want you to help me set up a meeting with him. As for the details, that’s none of your business.”

Yara giggled. “Still playing the mysterious card, huh? Well, tough luck. I’m busy, so I’m not helping. And besides, isn’t it ‘Uncle Andrew’ now? You could just call up your beloved godfather and beg him. Maybe if you’re lucky, he’ll meet you.”

Quinton was seething with rage. He shouted, “Yara, you little bitch, don’t you dare bring that up again, you hear me?”

She did not even let him finish–just hung up on him.

Quinton stood there fuming, humiliated, and boiling with fury. He was not going to let this go. He tried calling her again, but an automated message came through this time–she had blocked his number.

“You damn whore! You, Rafael, Mosby, Andrew–every last one of you–you’re all gonna die miserable deaths! Just wait!” Quinton exploded in a rage, screaming his lungs out on the street.

Passersby stopped to stare, their expressions full of concern and confusion, like they were looking at a lunatic.

That only made Quinton more furious. He nearly lunged at them to start swinging punches, but he held it in. If he could not activate that fragment of the map in his hands, his life would be over soon anyway.

Suddenly, someone popped into his head–Christina. She was the woman he originally planned to make his own, but now, rumor had it, she was living in Andrew’s Serenity Villa. That might just be his solution.

Immediately, he made another call. “Where are you? I’ve got something I need you to do–right now. If you screw this up, I’m done being patient. I’ll kill you, your mom, and your little brother. No more warnings.”

Quinton’s voice was vicious, threatening without hesitation.