"Let's go." Jiang Hai's gaze narrowed as he shot a glance at the man. His voice was calm, but his expression was dark as he turned to his team. The six of them slowly retreated from the casino.
Just as that man had said—this wasn't over.
And for Jiang Hai, it never would be until the debt was paid.
Anyone who dared to provoke him wouldn't be let off lightly. Jiang Hai didn't care for things like a noble, forgiving heart. This wasn't a fairy tale, and he wasn't the type to play the good guy. This man had crossed the line—and he would deal with him accordingly. Jiang Hai was never one for playing fair.
Outside the casino, Bob George and several police officers quickly approached. There was genuine concern in their eyes, especially from the officers who clearly recognized Jiang Hai as someone important.
In the eyes of the state, Christian Edis's small-time casino was nothing compared to Jiang Hai's influence in Winthrop.
"Mr. Jiang, is everything alright?" one of them asked.
"Nothing to trouble yourselves with," Jiang Hai replied, flashing a calm smile.
"Of course, of course," the officer nodded quickly, then stepped aside respectfully with his colleagues.
After they left, Thackeray Eddie, still supporting his son, came over with gratitude in his eyes.
"Thank you, Mr. Jiang. Without you, our family could've fallen apart today."
Jiang Hai let out a small chuckle.
"After today, you'd best leave Winthrop—or even Boston. They wouldn't dare touch me, but you're another story."
Thackeray's expression darkened slightly, but he nodded.
"Understood. We'll head to my mother-in-law's in New Jersey for now. They won't find us there."
Now, he fully understood the phrase: "A man is innocent, but guilty of what he owns." After thanking Jiang Hai once more, he helped his son into the car and drove away.
Jiang Hai watched them go, then returned to his own vehicle.
This time, only three people rode with him: Bell, Galina, and Du Ning.
As he started the engine, Jiang Hai spoke without looking back:
"Once we're back, I want to begin the first phase of our mission. I want a full profile on those two men—backgrounds, affiliations, what their goals are, how far they've progressed, and where the cracks are."
Bell knew Jiang Hai wasn't speaking to him. After two years of working together, Bell had learned when to listen and when to stay silent.
But Galina and Du Ning? Their eyes lit up with excitement.
They weren't pure combat specialists. In a fair fight—even Azarina would struggle against Bell, and her odds might be 45 to 55.
As for Galina and Du Ning? Against Bell, their odds in direct combat weren't even 30%.
But if it was a kill mission—a sudden strike, a planned assassination—then the odds flipped. Their success rate would soar above 80%. If Bell didn't know he was the target, they could guarantee 95%.
Every profession had its expertise, and this was theirs. They could serve as bodyguards, but they excelled in covert missions. And more than that, they wanted to prove their loyalty.
Back at Jiang Hai's estate, Galina and Du Ning quickly met with Azarina. After a short conversation, Galina left with Aler, Valentina, Belyakov, and Wallis Shelley.
They took two of Jiang Hai's parked cars: a Tesla sports car and a black sedan.
Recart and Du Ning stayed behind. Jiang Hai didn't ask for updates—he knew they had their own tasks. All he needed to do was wait.
But he wasn't idle.
With over 8,000 acres of land newly purchased, renovations were scheduled to begin in a month. Jiang Hai also began contacting other local landowners, including Cotton Harris, to see if they were interested in selling.
Jiang Hai's handling of the matter had already earned him credibility among ranchers. More importantly, it exposed Colorite Company's underhanded tactics. These landowners now knew that Jiang Hai could protect their interests better—and that their so-called investors weren't to be trusted.
That afternoon, Jiang Hai made several calls.
Almost all of them agreed to sell—except for Cotton Harris, who instead invited Jiang Hai for a meeting at his estate in three days.
That was good enough. With patience and money, Jiang Hai would secure the land sooner or later.
As for Galina and the others, they left around 3:00 PM, taking with them $100,000—a gift from Jiang Hai. Mission expenses would be deducted from that sum; the rest was theirs as a bonus.
And they were thrilled. Back when they worked for their organization, all mission earnings were heavily taxed or withheld. Now, working for Jiang Hai felt almost like a dream.
Around 9:00 PM, two cars arrived at a Boston nightclub called Janna Siren. It wasn't the most luxurious club in town, but it had a solid reputation—clean, secure, mid-range pricing, and a professional crowd. It attracted young office workers more than unruly punks.
By 9:00, a line had already formed outside.
Nightclubs in the U.S. always checked IDs, especially for alcohol. Men usually paid an entrance fee—but if you were good-looking enough, that sometimes didn't apply.
Just as the crowd was chatting and joking, a sleek Tesla sports car rolled up to the front entrance.
The door opened, and a stunning woman stepped out.
She had golden blonde hair, a short pink fur coat, and an eye-catching figure that instantly drew gasps from the waiting crowd. Beneath the coat, she wore a white lace bodice, denim shorts, and mesh leather heels that made her long legs look even more enticing.
The sheer volume of her chest threatened to burst out of her blouse, and a diamond necklace rested in the deep valley between her breasts.
Everyone—from bystanders to those exiting the parking lot—froze.
"Park this for me," she said casually, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill and handing the keys to a stunned valet.
"No problem, gorgeous," the attendant grinned, taking both the money and the moment to admire her figure. Maybe—just maybe—tonight was his lucky night.
As if sensing his thoughts, the woman flashed him a casual glance, then strode into the club.
The crowd went wild.
"Oh my god—what am I seeing?! Let me in, NOW!"
"This kind of bombshell comes here? How have I never seen her before?"
"Damon, I swear, if I don't get her tonight, I'm going insane!"
"You? Get real. Look at her. She's not in your league. She wouldn't even look twice at you!"
Even the nightclub's regulars were whispering. They'd seen a lot, but nothing like this.
Across the street, in the Tesla sedan, Belyakov let out a low whistle.
"Wallis is amazing. Just five steps, and she's already broken their brains."
The woman in the pink coat? That was Wallis Shelley. Inside the sedan with her were Belyakov, Valentina, Aler, and Galina—all watching and waiting for her signal.
"Sure, you want to do that too," Aler teased, catching Belyakov's frustrated tone.
"Tch, don't act like you've got it," Belyakov retorted, rolling her eyes.
"Please. I've got the legs—and the boss clearly loves playing with them," Aler grinned, stretching her long legs provocatively.
"Alright, enough flirting. Focus," Galina said, her tone sharp but calm. The chatter stopped instantly. Phones came out. Binoculars were raised. Focus returned.
Inside the club, Wallis moved with practiced ease. Every man turned his head. Every woman threw daggers with her eyes. But Wallis smiled through it all—radiant, confident, utterly composed.
She walked to the bar, sat down, and subtly flashed a glow-in-the-dark wristband—marking her as a designated "water-only" guest.
The bartender approached instantly.
"What can I get you, beautiful?" he asked, clearly smitten.
"What've you got?" she replied, propping her chin on her hand and giving him a playful wink.
That wink nearly melted him. If she hadn't still been upright, he might've climbed over the bar right then and there.
"Anything you want. Just name it."
Wallis chuckled softly.
"A Bloody Mary. I don't like blood, but I do love that seductive red."
Her half-lidded gaze and lazy tone made her sound like a purring kitten. The bartender nearly dropped the shaker.
He mixed her drink quickly—extra alcohol this time, just in case. He knew he wouldn't win her over in one drink, but… it was a start.
The glass was placed in front of her. But instead of sipping, Wallis slowly took the cherry garnish and licked it—seductively, playfully.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Eyes widened. Jaws dropped. And sure enough, one bold man couldn't take it anymore. He walked over with a drink in hand.
"Waiting for someone, gorgeous?" he asked confidently.
"Yes," Wallis replied, giving him a once-over. "But unfortunately… not you."
The man froze, face reddening.
He wasn't new to rejection, but this one still stung. Head down, he retreated, shaking his head.
He got the message loud and clear.
She wasn't there to play with just anyone.
To be continued...