The stunned silence on the fog-covered highway lasted only a few seconds before the rear door of the central car slowly swung open.
A tall man in a tailored, dark navy trench coat stepped out onto the asphalt.
Zuroth walked forward with a slow, deliberate grace, his glasses catching the harsh morning light as his men immediately parted to make a clear path for him.
He adjusted his leather gloves, a deep, weary sigh escaping his lips as he came to a stop right beside Dente.
“Alfonso,” Zuroth spoke, his voice calm, smooth, and laced with an intense, quiet authority.
“When can you ever let go of your childish behavior? We are running multi-million dollar syndicates, not playing games on a playground.”
Alfonso tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing just a fraction as a flash of surprise crossed his features before transforming into a mocking, arrogant smirk.
He crossed his massive arms over his chest, completely unbothered by the dozens of rifles still trained on him.
“Well, look who finally decided to show his face,” Alfonso taunted, his deep baritone dropping into a rumble.
“Were you hiding in the back of that car like a coward, Zuroth? It’s hilarious. You have all these armed men protecting your skin, while I only brought myself and Griffin out here on the open road.”
Zuroth didn’t flinch.
He fixed a cold, steady gaze on the EGUF leader.
“I know exactly who you are, Alfonso. And I know who I am. These men of mine are absolutely nothing the second you decide to lose your mind and fight them. I am simply here to ensure we don’t start an unnecessary war over a misunderstanding.”
“Then stop all the damn blabbering and offer me your ear for a shot,” Alfonso commanded flatly, stepping closer until he was mere feet away from the Bulldog leader.
He checked his heavy gold watch with a flick of his wrist.
“I am running incredibly late. My company, Losridge General Motors, is waiting for my presence. I am personally admitting a new batch of interns today, and I don’t like my schedule being disrupted by your incompetence.”
Zuroth’s jaw tightened, his brow furrowing as he looked at the unyielding nature in Alfonso’s expression.
“Is there really no other way to settle this, Alfonso? My rogue soldier made a grave, unauthorized mistake without a single shred of my consent. Why the hell should I be the one paying the physical price for his stupidity?”
“Because you failed in your leadership, Zuroth,” Alfonso fired back instantly, his voice ringing with a merciless authority.
“You can’t even control your own men. When a soldier goes rogue under your watch, it is only natural that the leader takes the blame and bears the scar. That is how the underworld works.” This chapter was copied from novelping(.)com without permission.
Seeing his boss backed into a corner, Dente stepped forward, placing his frame between the two leaders.
“I’ll take the shot on behalf of my boss instead, Alfonso,” Dente barked, his face twisting into a grim, determined scowl.
“Put the bullet through my ear. Let’s get this over with.”
“No,” Alfonso refused instantly, his icy gaze snapping to Dente with a terrifying, lethal sharpness that made the executioner freeze.
“No one else touches this bullet apart from Zuroth himself. And if you want to keep arguing with me, I will personlly delay the shipment of your drugs currently bound for GeeVee country. I’ll hold the logistics back until the cargo is easily detected by the international police, and you know exactly how fast that means your entire distribution network will be dead.”
Zuroth’s eyes dilated with a sudden, sharp panic.
He couldn’t stand that threat.
The drugs were already loaded onto Alfonso’s yacht, representing over eighty percent of his syndicate’s liquid capital for the quarter.
Alfonso had him completely cornered.
Zuroth knew this absolute fool would actually follow through on the threat out of chaotic spite; he would find a way to leak the coordinates to the authorities just to watch the Bulldogs burn.
“Fine,” Zuroth hissed through his teeth, his face turning a pale, furious shade of gray as he stepped past Dente and stood directly in front of Alfonso.
He tilted his head slightly, exposing his left ear to the elements.
“Take the shot. Even us out, you psycho.”
Alfonso’s smirk widened into a predatory, bloodthirsty grin.
He slowly reached into his suit, his fingers wrapping around the grip of his custom pistol.
He pulled it out, the cold steel clicking as he raised the barrel, aiming it dead at the tip of Zuroth’s ear.
But just as Alfonso prepared himself to pull the trigger and tear through the flesh, a ring shattered the intense tension on the highway.
It was his personal phone.
Alfonso’s jaw tightened in an explosive wave of anger at the interruption.
He clicked the device open with a violent motion, shoving it against his ear, ready to roar at whoever had dared to call him.
“This better be a matter of life and death,” he growled into the receiver. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“A… Alfonso…!” Sophie’s voice broke through the speaker, shaking, trembling, and entirely consumed by a breathless panic that Alfonso had never heard from her before.
“Sophie?” Alfonso’s voice instantly dropped into a freezing register, his body going entirely rigid.
“Report.”
“The… the palace is under attack!” Sophie cried out, the unmistakable, muffled thuds of gunfire and exploding glass echoing loudly in the background of the call.
“We’ve been caught completely off guard, Alfonso! Our perimeter guards are being outnumbered by the second… they breached the southern gates…!”
Alfonso’s heart violently slammed against his ribs, a sudden, dark image of a voluptuous, fragile nurse flashing through his mind.
“Where is Joanne?!” he demanded fiercely, his voice roaring into the phone, completely forgetting about the Bulldogs standing in front of him.
“Is she safe?!”
“I have her… I’m currently hiding under the basement structure with Joanne right now,” Sophie panted heavily, her voice cracking with fear.
“They’re coming closer, and… and they’re searching the lower levels…”
“Is she hurt, Sophie?! Answer me!” Alfonso bellowed, his knuckles turning white as he nearly crushed the phone in his palm.
“She… she’s alive, Alfonso… she’s just been scratched by some flying glass from the upper window, but she’s bleeding and terrified…”
Clack.
Alfonso immediately hung up the phone, completely cutting Sophie off as a feral aura exploded from his massive frame.
He violently jammed the silver pistol back into his jacket and snapped his head toward his right-hand man.
“Griffin! Get in the fucking car right now!” Alfonso roared, his voice booming like thunder across the highway.
“We are going back to the palace immediately!”
Griffin didn’t ask a single question; his combat instincts flared as he instantly turned on his heel, sprinting back toward the driver’s side of the car.
Alfonso took one final, heavy step toward Zuroth, his face twisting into a mask of slaughter as he stared into the Bulldog leader’s shocked eyes, his final words delivering a chilling, promises-filled promise that echoed through the fog:
“Count your lucky stars for today, Zuroth. But don’t you dare think you’re off the hook… because I am still coming back for that shot.”