C50 Gangster

Seeking death so fervently?

Vaden was momentarily taken aback upon hearing those words. He had encountered his fair share of the arrogant, but never anyone quite this brazen.

"Fine, I'll grant your wish today."

He swung his meaty fist, gearing up to land a brutal blow on Westley. Without a good thrashing, Westley would remain ignorant of his notorious moniker, "the little tyrant."

A sinister smile curled at the corner of Westley's mouth. If Vaden dared to strike, he was ready to give him a taste of a fate worse than death. That was a promise.

"Wow, little Tyrant, you're quite fired up today, aren't you?"

A soft voice, laced with a hint of languor and allure, permeated the ears of all present.

Vaden's movement halted, and he turned to look.

There was Charlotte, the siren, sashaying over with a seductive twist of her hips. Every step and word she uttered was the epitome of feminine charm, igniting a blaze of desire in the hearts of onlookers.

"Boss Powell."

Vaden released his grip, his face morphing into a sycophantic grin.

Despite the covetous glint in his eyes, he dared not be too brazen.

Rollen, too, shed his swagger and haughtiness, adopting a genteel demeanor.

Only Westley's gaze upon Charlotte was unabashed, lingering intently on her thighs and cleavage, his eyes reflecting a longing reluctance to look away. His stare was unabashedly invasive.

Having spent considerable time in the Golden Palace, Charlotte had encountered all manner of individuals: renowned politicians, dark world heavyweights, and business tycoons whose influence could rock the market with a mere footfall.

Charlotte was adept at navigating these waters with grace and poise. She knew how to wield her beauty, never squandering it on anyone. To her, beauty was not just a weapon but a resource, one that could neutralize most complications.

Even the most notorious and lascivious of power players wouldn't dare harbor unseemly desires towards Charlotte, for they knew well the specter that loomed behind her—the once-dominant force of Lindzac, Derrick.

The man who once stood unchallenged, commanding the respect of all sides.

Even in death, his legacy endured, a topic of endless fascination.

Now, Derrick and Charlotte had all but fused into a single entity.

As a result, even brash heirs like Rollen and Vaden dared not cross her.

Their own fathers were obliged to respectfully call her Boss Powell.

But today, Charlotte found herself unexpectedly rattled by Westley.

His gaze was predatory, like a ravenous wolf eyeing a succulent lamb, his longing blatantly apparent.

You want to look, fine, but why the chin-stroking?!

Are you sizing me up?

For the first time, Charlotte felt a twinge of insecurity about her looks.

She feared imperfection, worried that he might spot a flaw she'd overlooked.

With that thought, her expression subtly shifted.

"Charlotte, what's gotten into you? Has a mere look shaken your confidence? Remember, you are the indomitable Red Rose."

The voice in her head snapped her back to reality.

She quickly recalibrated her mood, her smile returning more radiant and self-assured than before.

She was the epitome of a red rose in full, proud bloom.

Her stunning presence captivated every man and sparked envy in every woman there—leaving Vaden's influencer girlfriend looking pale and utterly outclassed.

Do you see?

This is the commanding presence of the Red Rose, in control of everything!

Her gaze returned to Westley, her eyebrows arching defiantly.

To her surprise, he responded with a simple, goofy grin, his smile betraying a hint of triumphant scheming.

So, even you have moments of doubt?

The flurry of emotions was fleeting, lasting only as long as it took Charlotte to walk a few steps.

"Good to see you, Boss Powell."

Both Vaden and Rollen eagerly greeted her.

"Little Overlord, Young Mr. Freeman, do drop by for some fun," Charlotte said with a light smile.

"Of course, Boss Powell," Vaden replied, grinning boyishly.

Charlotte Lau noticed Rollen Freeman's sullen silence and inquired, "Young Mr. Freeman, who's got you down in the dumps?"

"Your guy Rashawn is getting a bit too big for his britches, acting like he's above everyone else. Boss Lau, are we going to have to tiptoe around his mood next time we come here to hang out?" Rollen grumbled.

Charlotte was momentarily taken aback, then burst into laughter, her hand covering her mouth. Her laughter was hearty, her stunning figure shaking with each chuckle.

The men nearby couldn't help but steal glances, swallowing hard in admiration.

Once her laughter subsided, Charlotte said, "I was worried it was something serious. Rashawn, get over here."

Rashawn approached, not daring to ignore Charlotte's command, and bowed respectfully, "Ms. Charlotte."

"Apologize to Young Mr. Freeman, you've upset him," Charlotte instructed, still smiling.

Reluctantly, Rashawn bowed to Rollen and said, "My apologies for earlier, Young Mr. Freeman."

"No problem," Rollen replied, eager to move past the awkwardness.

"That's better. In business, we can't afford to alienate our clients," Charlotte said as she stepped forward and straightened Rashawn's collar with a warm, natural gesture.

"But let's not forget, Rashawn, you're my assistant and one of my closest kin. If anyone dares to call you a dog, I, as your sister, would have to disagree," Charlotte stated, her tone steady.

Rollen and Vaden's faces fell as a cold shiver ran down their spines. Clearly, her words were intended for them.

"Boss Lau, that's not what we meant. We were just messing with Rashawn," Vaden stuttered in his defense.

Rollen remained silent, his gaze shifting away.

"Was it all just a joke?" Charlotte feigned surprise before adding with a light smile, "As long as it was all in good fun. Otherwise, I might have to have a word about parenting with the fathers of some people who boast about buying up several Golden Palaces."

It was clear that Charlotte had not missed a single detail of the earlier exchange.

Vaden Wang felt a stream of cold sweat running down his back.

"Boss Powell, it was all in good fun! If there's nothing else, we'll head to our private room."

With that, Vaden dragged Rollen Tang along, quickly making their way to their reserved space.

Westley Jimenez watched them nearly flee in panic, his surprise considerable.

Charlotte had quite the grip on things!

In just a few sentences, she had diffused the tension and salvaged Rashawn's dignity.

This incident would surely cement Rashawn's unwavering loyalty to her.

True to form, Rashawn clenched his lips, tears brimming in his eyes, and gave a respectful bow, "Thank you, Ms. Charlotte!"

"We're all family here, no need for thanks. Let's not give anyone a show," Charlotte Powell dismissed with a nonchalant wave of her hand.

"I'll leave you to talk with Mr. Jimenez. I've got other matters to attend to," Rashawn said, excusing himself with discernment.

Now alone with Westley, Charlotte extended her hand, "Mr. Jimenez, a pleasure to meet you."

"Hello, Boss Powell. Ha, your reputation precedes you!"

Westley eagerly grasped her hand, feeling it once, then again.

So smooth!

Such fine skin!

Her fingers were exquisite!

What skincare does she use?

Charlotte was momentarily taken aback.

This man had some nerve, openly flirting like that!