C92 Give Me Your Body!
Adrian Qin nodded in approval, clearly pleased with their responses.
"I brought you all out from our hometown for a life of riches and honor. So, I expect none of you to run into any trouble. Got it?" Adrian reiterated.
"Understood!" Their eyes blazed with fervor.
"First, we'll find a place to settle, then we'll start planning our next moves," Adrian instructed with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Ryleigh, whose arms had gone numb from Westley's pressing, shook them out to restore feeling. Once her strength returned, she inquired, "Boss, where are we going to stay?"
"I've got a place lined up. It's called Five-dragon Street," Adrian revealed.
"Five-dragon Street? What kind of place is that?" Crazyman asked, his curiosity piqued.
"It's an urban village, a real melting pot. Makes it the perfect spot for us to lay low," Adrian explained.
"I like the sound of that name," Alistair commented in his deep, resonant voice. "Five-dragon Street! It means we're all dragons here."
"Exactly," Adrian said, his face breaking into a smile once more.
"Look at you, Alistair! Only a few days in the city and you're already talking big," Crazyman chuckled, elbowing Alistair in the stomach.
"Crazyman, you're asking for it!" Alistair bellowed, charging at Crazyman.
"Don't you dare hit my husband, or it'll be war!" The three of them erupted into a playful scuffle on the overpass.
Adrian watched the trio's antics, his smile gradually fading to a wistful sigh. He removed his hat, letting his long black hair cascade over his shoulders. Then, peeling off his mask, he revealed his true face—a visage of near perfection.
His features were stunning, flawless as if sculpted from the finest jade. His looks could eclipse any male celebrity of the day, and leave women feeling utterly outclassed.
Had he chosen the life of a star, he would have undoubtedly caused an uproar, driving girls around the world into a frenzy and earning the envy of men everywhere.
Clearly, Adrian Qin was a man of extraordinary beauty.
As two girls stepped onto the overpass and caught sight of Adrian, they were spellbound, as though their very souls had been ensnared by his presence.
The strawberries in their grasp had lost their allure, unnoticed as they tumbled to the ground.
"Goodness, isn't he just breathtaking?"
"He's off-the-charts handsome."
"Quick, snap a photo! I'm posting this on my WeChat Moments."
Adrian paid no mind to the chatter of the two young girls, his chin propped in his hand as he gazed intently at the figure crossing beneath the bridge.
That figure was Westley.
His silhouette seemed slender, tinged with solitude.
Yet through Adrian's eyes, he saw a formidable presence.
An incredibly fearsome force!
Only when Westley's figure had vanished did Adrian exhale deeply.
"Let's hope our paths don't cross again."
Westley hadn't gone far when the vintage phone in his pocket began to ring.
"Hey, Rashawn, what's up?" A grin spread across Westley's face.
Rashawn's call was an unexpected one.
"Mr. Jimenez, do you have a moment?" Rashawn inquired with deference.
"Now? Spit it out, what's the issue?" Westley pressed.
"Boss Powell has invited you to a dinner party this evening," Rashawn managed to say.
"Dinner party?" Westley was taken aback.
What was Charlotte up to?
"Yes, a dinner party! Boss Powell couldn't find a suitable escort, so she asked me to extend an invitation. Can you make it?" Rashawn explained.
Westley paused briefly.
Before he could respond, a gentle voice floated from the other end: "What's the matter? Scared I might devour you?"
"That's the least of my worries. I bet there are men out there who'd love to be devoured by you," Westley chuckled.
"You're quite the charmer! So, what do you say?"
Charlotte feigned a pout, "If you don't show, I'll be truly heartbroken."
"Is it really that serious? Then I must attend. Allow me a moment to get ready. After all, I should match your loveliness," Westley responded.
"No need for formalities. It's a casual get-together, not a grand affair," Charlotte's voice was sultry.
"Alright. Is it at your Golden Palace?" Westley inquired.
"No, it's at the Marrit Hotel, another one of our venues. Just come on over, I'll be waiting for you here," Charlotte instructed.
"Alright!"
Westley hung up the phone, his brow furrowed in thought.
What was she up to?
He certainly didn't believe that Charlotte had fallen for him at first sight and was now trying to entice him.
From their brief encounter, Westley could tell that this woman was no pushover.
How else could she have transformed the Golden Palace into such an empire? And how did she manage to get someone like Rashawn to loyally serve her?
"Guess I'll have to see what she's really after," Westley muttered as he hailed a cab.
Up in the opulent suite on the top floor of the Marrit Hotel, Charlotte passed her phone to Rashawn and stretched languidly. "He's in," she announced.
Her ample bosom nearly popped the seams of her blouse.
Rashawn, head bowed, seemed unsurprised by the news.
"Boss Powell, why pick Westley?" he asked after a pause, his voice tinged with bravery.
"Because he's a fresh face, unaffiliated with any faction. Someone like that can have surprising utility," Charlotte replied with a smile.
"But if he finds out we're just using him, will he..." Rashawn trailed off, his unease palpable.
He was, in fact, somewhat opposed to Charlotte's current scheme.
"Are you concerned about him?" Charlotte asked, her gaze teasing.
"It's not concern," Rashawn said quietly. "It just seems unfair."
"Unfair?" Charlotte burst into laughter, her mirth bold and free.
But mid-laugh, large tears rolled down her cheeks.
"When they plotted against Derrick, when they ambushed and attacked him, did they ever consider fairness?" she said with fury.
Tonight, she was determined to reclaim what they owed Derrick.
Rashawn shuddered, his throat tight as if choked by emotion.
"As for the debt you mentioned I owe to Westley, I'll make it right," Charlotte vowed, rising to her feet and staring into the night outside the window. "Even if it means offering myself to him."
