Chapter 94

In the seedy underground fight club, a crowd of men shouted around the ring, the air thick with raw energy.

"Knock him dead!"

"Get up, damn it! I've a hundred grand riding on this!"

"Go for it!"

On the ring, one fighter was battered and bleeding, struggling for breath. His opponent, bloodied and fierce, had him in a chokehold, on the verge of strangling him alive.

Layla shut her eyes, unable to bear the sight.

This wasn't boxing, it was a slaughterhouse. The fighters were like animals in a brutal struggle for survival.

Too gory for words.

Arthur smirked. The kid was scared of this little spectacle and yet dared to follow him here.

Layla trailed Arthur into a room.

"Arthur!"

The muscled, tattooed brutes inside all bowed respectfully to him.

"Layla, what are you doing here?" Owen rattled the bars of his cage, his face bruised and bloodied, his body scarred from the previous bout.

"Owen" They had him caged like an animal.

"Arthur," Layla turned back with urgency in her eyes.

King sat back on the couch, legs crossed, and lit up a cigar. "He's stubborn, wouldn't fight, just teaching him a lesson."

"You backstabbing old man, I won't fight for you!" Owen shouted.

"If you're not of any use to me, you might as well be dead." King signaled with a glance, and several beefy men stepped forward.

"Don't touch him!" Layla spread her arms in front of the cage. "What do you want for letting him go, Arthur?"

King took a puff of his cigar and exhaled a smoke ring. "A hundred million."

"One hundred million dollars?" Layla gasped in shock. It was an unimaginable astronomical figure.

"Somebody's already bet a hundred million on him. If he doesn't fight, I'm out a hundred million."

"I... I don't have that kind of money. Is there another way?" Layla's face turned ashen.

"You're a good fighter, why don't you take his place?" King smiled as the others chortled along.

"Shut up, you old fool! What kind of man bullies a woman? Come at me if you're so tough!" Owen bellowed.

"I, Arthur, don't bully women. She chose to come in here on her own."

Owen was seething with impatience, but helplessly trapped, "Damn it, Layla, mind your own business and get the hell out of here!"

"Shut up! I'm not leaving you here alone."

"Oh, touching. A real sibling bond," Arthur sneered with a cigar in his mouth and clapped mockingly, "But neither of you is getting away."

"Your sister's got looks, but it'd take forever to pay off a hundred million dollars by selling herself at a nightclub."

"How dare you?"

"What can't I, Arthur, dare?" Arthur scoffed contemptuously. "Sweetheart, since I let you see your brother for one last time, don't you think you owe me? How about this, you work at one of my clubs for a month."

"Not in your wildest dreams," Layla snapped.

"That's not up to you when you're dealing with Arthur. First, let's see what we're working with." With a nod from Arthur, a few burly men approached Layla, their eyes gleaming with malice.

"Don't touch me!"

"Back off!" Layla struggled against them, but how could one woman possibly overpower several hulking men?

They pinned her to the ground, tugging at her clothes.

"Let me go!"

"Arthur!" Owen kicked against the bars of his cage, yelling furiously, "Let her go and I'll fight for you!"

"Let her go, you bastard!"

"You were set to fight for me anyway. As for your sister, she insisted on coming in here-it's not on me."

One brute with a gold chain on his neck was about to rip Layla's T-shirt when, in desperation, she yelled, "I'm Samuel's girl! Touch me, and he'll kill you!"

Arthur was unimpressed, "Mr. Holland? Little girl, you've got guts to bluster like that!"

"I'm not bluffing; I really am his woman. If you don't believe me, let me call him," Layla panted, her voice laced with anxiety, "Or are you too scared?"

"You're not worried he'll come down here and wreck the place?"

Arthur had been in the game since he was sixteen and wasn't afraid of anything. Having encountered numerous dangerous situations; he wouldn't be intimidated by a petty threat from a girl.

Despite his contemptuous thoughts, he inexplicably commanded, "Hold off."

"Girl, if you're tricking me, I'll chop you up and feed you to the dogs."

With trembling hands, Layla dialed the phone. He was her only lifeline, and she was sweating with nerves.

A flurry of anxious thoughts crossed her mind, What if he was mad at her and purposely ignored her call?

The call connected, and Samuel answered immediately.

"Samuel, I need you," Layla blurted out urgently, "I agree to your terms."

"You should've agreed sooner and spared yourself this mess. You're just too hard-headed."

Just then, a horde of men clad in black suits stormed in.

Muscle-bound brutes who tried to stand their ground were effortlessly shoved aside.

Dominating the room with his arrogant stride, a tall figure dressed in a slick black suit entered. He was like a guardian angel, descending amidst the chaos, exuding an intense, dangerous aura.

Everyone instinctively gave way, cowed by his commanding presence.

Samuel, though a businessman, was a name that sent shivers down the spines of both the high and the low. Nobody dared cross him.

Layla had never anticipated someone's arrival so eagerly. To her, he was the savior for herself and Owen. Gratitude filled her eyes to the brim as she gazed at him, nearly moved to tears.

"Samuel!" Layla cried out, racing toward him with a staggering step. Samuel caught her in his arms, draping his jacket over her, " I'm here now, you're safe."

With calm restored, Layla now looked up at the man before her with utter trust, convinced he would ensure her safety.

She felt the sting of humiliation after the shock, her nose twitching with emotion. She despised him, yet why did she rely on him so?

Like a defenseless creature, she clung to his shirt, refusing to let go.

Samuel gently lifted Layla and seated her on his lap.

The gesture overflowed with affection.

"Mr. Holland, long time no see," chuckled Arthur with a sly grin. He had once sought to partner with Samuel but to no avail.

Samuel, he knew well. Ambitious, yes, but not greedy. He refused to work with the underworld.

Many wanted ties with him; equal numbers resented him. Yet, none could touch him.

Even Arthur, usually domineering, held a wary respect in Samuel's presence.

"To think our reunion after all these years would be under such circumstances," Samuel snorted with a mix of reprimand.

Arthur, cunning as a fox, was outmatched by Samuel, who stood like a regal young lion in both poise and power.

"My men lack finesse, my apologies. Had she declared earlier that she was yours, none of this would've happened, right?" Arthur said as he offered Samuel a cigar with a smile. Samuel, still cradling Layla, merely glanced coldly and did not accept.

"Quite the brave one, Mr. Holland's woman. I admire that."

"Let's talk terms," Samuel cut to the chase without further ado.