The Almighty Dominance

Owen and his bodyguards stood frozen in a stunned stupor, their tends too clouded by shock to fathom the chaos erupting around them.

Rushing to the penthouse balcony, Owen gripped the railing tight and stared down into the shadows below.

His breath hitched sharply when he glimpsed a man, powerfully built and fiercely determined, cradling a woman tenderly in his

strong arms.

Nearby, the thunderous rhythm of helicopter blades filled the nig air, whipping it into a violent tempest.

More lights pierced through the darkness, an ominous swarm converging swiftly upon the hotel.

A wicked smile twisted Owen's lips, his eyes gleaming cruelly. "Looks like our guest has finally arrived," he chuckled, a harsh laugh escaping his throat, completely devoid of remorse for Josephine's fate.

Women, to him, were nothing more than expendable toys, easily broken and casually discarded.

Snatching the pistol off his bedside table, Owen sneered coldly, "Killing Alex and taking the Heaven Root? Hell, that's child's play."

Meanwhile, Jericho Kane's helicopter hovered in midair, frozen in shock.

He could barely comprehend what he had just witnessed-his passenger had flung himself out of the chopper without a parachute, diving headfirst toward a woman plummeting from the penthouse balcony.

"What the hell... is he Superman?" the pilot muttered, stunned, his hands gripping the controls as he guided the chopper toward the rooftop helipad of the Skyview Hotel, awaiting further orders with bated breath.

At that same moment, six more helicopters tore through the night skies, engines roaring like war drums.

They bore the insignia of Conrad Dupont-each one packed with merciless, battle- hardened soldiers.

Inside the lead chopper, their commander, Yorick, leaned forward, his gaze sharp as a blade.

Through the binoculars, he locked onto a lone figure standing boldly at the hotel forecourt-a man cradling a woman in his arms like a knight descending into hell. Yorick's eyes narrowed.

"That's him," he growled. "Target in sight."

"Sir," Yorick urgently communicated through the radio to Conrad back in Chicago, his voice tight with anticipation.

"We've got eyes on Henry's killer."

Conrad's furious voice crackled sharply through the speaker, pure venom dripping from his words.

it live. Make that bastard grovel and plead before you put a bullet

commands to his men

in a protective embrace, his

too

yet courageously defiant. "Alex, we

as his gaze traced the bruises marring Josephine's delicate face and tattered

hurt you?" he

Chapter 221

humiliation and pain

admitted softly, her voice breaking. "But forget that-please, let's just escape.

you dead."

resolve, Alex gently touched her

commanded

unconsciousness. By now, six helicopters hadtouched down, disgorging sixty heavily-armed soldiers onto the parking lot, each weapon

voice booming with deadly accusation. "How dare you kill

the forecourt, flanked by five of his guards. His eyes widened in disbelief at the scene before him-soldiers swarming the hotel

sharply. "Who the hell are

Whitman," Owen

owes me a Heaven Root. Before you turn

briefly until Conrad's furious

Heaven Root first. It's valuable. If he refuses to

just for him, utterly convinced the world revolved around his whims. Facing Alex, Owen sneered with disgusting mockery, his voice dripping venom. "Hand

of you touch her?" Alex growled, eyes

without a shred of shame. "Yeah, I ordered my

every second of it. What are you gonna do about

silence turned deadly, the air vibrating

as Alex's quiet fury transformed into a chilling

"Explode."

Owen's five guards like a freight

their lungs as their bodies were pulverized, bones shattering

raised his shaking gun, terror replacing bravado. "Who...who the hell are you?" he whimpered, fear clawing at his throat. An invisible vice clamped painfully

at the shredded remains of his limb. Gripped by terror, Owen spun around and bolted-desperate to

shredding his leg apart.

comprehend the gruesome carnage unfolding before them without a single visible attacker. "Please... help me," Owen sobbed pathetically, his pride