In this gripping tale, our fierce protagonist, named 𝐊𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐘𝐧, finds herself stripped of everything after a devastating divorce. Determined to seek justice for herself and her family, she hits rock bottom, struggling to even put food on t...
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Ryan looked at the chest, his bloodied hand trembling as he pushed himself upright slightly. His gaze flicked from the weighty iron box to Yn’s impassive face, confusion, suspicion, and desperation warring in his bloodshot eyes.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he rasped, voice hoarse from screaming earlier, body still shaking from adrenaline and pain.
Yn’s expression remained unreadable, but her tone was like ice cutting through fog. “Tell me where Charlie is… and you can walk away with this chest of gold,” she said, slowly, deliberately, as if every syllable were a noose tightening around his neck. The mercenaries behind her didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink. The air thickened with tension.
Ryan’s breath caught. His eyes widened as if she’d spoken a foreign language. “If I tell you…” he stammered, unable to finish his thought as disbelief painted his face. He looked at the chest again—real gold. “You’ll let me go? With all this gold?”
“That’s right,” Yn replied, calm as a tranquil lake before a storm. “This is your only chance, Ryan. So don’t try to get clever with me. I have no patience for games.”
Ryan blinked, processing her words, trying to find a catch—anything that could expose this as a trick, a trap, a mockery of his already doomed life. “You’ll really let me go?” he asked again, almost childlike in his disbelief, voice cracking from the weight of the moment. It sounded too good to be true—because it was.
Yn tilted her head, her gaze sharp and merciless. “Do you have any other choice than to believe me?” she asked coolly, almost pitying. Her words struck like a slap of reality, reminding him of the gun pointed at his skull and the bodies littering the ground around him.
Ryan’s jaw clenched. The logic was brutal but sound. This was his only chance. He could either rot here as another corpse or take a gamble with the devil in front of him.
A long pause stretched between them, taut like a wire about to snap.
“Fine…” he muttered, voice breaking. “Fine, I’ll tell you!” The fight left him like a punctured balloon. With shaky limbs and a body riddled with fear and fatigue, Ryan lunged forward and dragged the heavy chest closer to him, as if the cold metal could protect him from death’s reach.
His breathing ragged, he clutched the chest with his injured arm and used his good one to brace himself, glaring upward as if daring her to change her mind. “Charlie… Charlie is in Barron’s hands!”
The confession dropped like a bomb.
“What?”
The walls practically vibrated with the collective roar of the SamWolf gang, their voices overlapping in shock and disbelief. The men, seasoned and brutal, weren’t easily startled—but this? This was beyond anything they had expected.
A stunned silence followed the outburst, as if everyone was trying to process the impossible. Sam’s gang thought they heard him wrongly.
Sam’s jaw tightened. His brows furrowed deeply, his fist clenched at his side. Even his men turned to look at him for direction, but he stood frozen, lips parted in disbelief.
